


Freak

by PaperCities



Category: The Walking Dead & Related Fandoms, The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Age Difference, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Bottom Carl Grimes, Daddy Issues, F/M, Jealousy, M/M, Parent/Child Incest, Possessive Rick Grimes, Rape/Non-con Elements, Savage Rick Grimes, Sexual Abuse, Sexual Tension, Sexual Violence, Underage Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-01
Updated: 2019-01-01
Packaged: 2019-10-02 08:50:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 21,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17261216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PaperCities/pseuds/PaperCities
Summary: Carl and Rick never reunite in the beginning of the apocalypse, and Carl is rescued by the early Alexandrians at 13. Rick, meanwhile, has changed into a bloodthirsty savage from years on the road. They meet again at Alexandria and ungodly attraction sparks between the two, neither of them realizing who they are until their lust is consummated.





	Freak

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys!! NEW FIC ALERTTTT~  
> HAPPY NEW YEARS! I HOPE EVERYONE IS WELL!  
> Please enjoy this lil guy! It's a little fucked up but I wanted to try writing an apocalypse AU instead of my modern ones. Sorry about grammar/spelling errors! I DON'T KNOW WHAT THE WEIRD PARAGRAPH SPACINGS ARE BUT THEY PISS ME OFF!! hehe
> 
> !!!WARNING (READ THIS BEFORE YOU GO ON)!!!  
> This fic contains:  
> -rape/non-con  
> -graphic sex  
> -underage sex  
> -sexual violence  
> -father/son incest  
> -violence towards a child  
> -angst  
> PLEASE DO NOT READ THIS FIC IF ANY OF THE ABOVE TRIGGERS YOU!!!  
> I do not condone any of the above. This is simply fictional and for entertainment purposes.
> 
> *Sorry if I forget to tag anything. Just let me know if I do*
> 
> I just realized all my fics are based on Lana songs; this particular is inspired by "Freak". It's SO good, give a listen, it sets the mood.  
> PLEASE ENJOY!  
> Toodles!

 

 

The strangers emerge from the woods in the dead of the night. Little by little, people are jolted awake by furious voices and threats. Aaron rushes into Carl’s room, nudging him awake. Carl groans, rubbing his eyes. He begins to protest the rude awakening when Aaron shushes him.

“Listen to me, Carl.” Aaron’s alarmed tone is like a slap to his face. He sits straight up. “There are people at the gates. It- It looks bad.”

Carl clears his throat, voice croaky from sleep.

“How bad? Bad enough to run?”

Aaron releases a sigh, shaking his head. “I’m not sure yet. We’re gonna try to reason with them, but if things go downhill, I want you to book it out of here. You know where the meet up point is.”

“Yeah, ok. I’ll wake the others,” the boy responds, face sullen.

Aaron reaches up to ruffle Carl’s hair, sparing one last look before rushing back out of the room. Carl slips into his pants, boots, and jacket before going to Denise and Olivia’s house. The three of them split up to wake the other townspeople. As more and more people wake, the louder the yells get at the gates. Carl swallows thickly as he approaches the Anderson home. Jesse answers the door, face paling as he explains the situation to her.

“Ok, thanks, sweetie, let me get the boys,” she says, pulling him inside as if for his safety. Carl waits awkwardly for them as the family stirs. Ron comes bounding down the stairs soon enough, with Sam at his tail.

“Carl! Are you ok?” he yelps, running over to pull him into a tight hug. “There’s intruders at the gates?”

“Unfortunately,” he answers, pulling Sam into a quick hug as well. “We need everyone awake in case they attack.”

In the corner of his eye, he catches sight of Pete descending the stairs. His spine stiffens when the man meets his eyes and grins.

“Thanks for telling us, Carl,” Pete says, coming over. Carl backs up instinctively.

“Sure, it’s no problem,” he stammers. “If there’s no problem, I’ll leave you guys to pack your necessities.”

Ron frowns. “You can stay. I’d prefer if you didn’t go out there. You could get hurt.”

Carl shakes his head. “No, really. I need to help Aaron.”

He leaves before Pete can insist as well.

…

When Carl gets to the gates, Aaron waves him up the ladder.

“Help me evaluate the new guys. I trust your insight the most,” he whispers, helping him up to the top.

At first glance, Carl can tell they’re fearless. They’re dirty, obviously tired but very very powerful. Their leader, the tall, cold eyed man, looks strangely familiar. His strong stature and low voice show very well what he’s capable of. Carl wonders how many men he’s killed and how many of those men made the mistake of underestimating him. Carl shudders at the thought. Deanna’s saying something, bargaining.

“How do I know you won’t murder us all the moment I let you and your people through my gates?” she asks.

The leader sneers.

“You’re already taking all of our weapons. What do you think we’ll do?” he retorts.

Carl frowns, looking over the group of them. It’s clear that they’re desperate. Deanna and the man argue on. Aaron advises her, whispering suggestions that weigh heavily on her decision. Carl notices the thinness of the group members, their bloody wounds. A young woman rocks a baby on her hip, and that’s the last bit of confirmation Carl needs to know that they won’t try anything stupid.

“That’s your baby?” Carl asks, cutting right through Deanna’s question. The man looks at him, gaze heavy and studying.

“Yes,” he answers, nodding to the baby girl. “That’s Judith, my daughter.”

Carl nods and turns to Deanna.

“What do you think, Carl?” Aaron asks.

“I think we should let them in. They have a baby, and they’re obviously low on food. I don’t think they’ll attack us, but we should observe them for a while. They look strong enough to be able to help protect us when we need it,” he says. Deanna looks at him approvingly, hiding a satisfied look. She turns to discuss with her sons.

Carl looks back at the group, surprised to find the man still looking at him. His expression is unreadable, but Carl can’t lie and pretend like he’s not scared. The man looks at him with eyes of a predator.

“We’re going to send men down to you to take your weapons, then we’ll let you in. Any wrong move, and we won’t hesitate to send you right back out.” Deanna says, jerking her head for them to open the gates. She sends Carl a small smile.

…

With the situation under control, Carl trudges back to the house and slumps into Eric and Aaron’s bed like a stone. Eric comes in right after him and falls down next to him. Aaron is escorting the group to one of the houses further away from the rest of the community, just in case, while Denise has been assigned to check them over in the morning. Pete, the usual doctor, has business to discuss with Deanna in the morning. Carl decides some extra sleep would do well in case he has to assist Denise in the infirmary tomorrow. He falls asleep feeling the heated blue eyes burning into him.

…

Morning comes quicker than expected. Carl eats his breakfast of oatmeal and peaches, rolling his eyes when Aaron and Eric snort at his messy hair and eye bags. His makes his way over to the infirmary, waving hello to a few neighbors as he passes. The group from last night are all crowded in the office, all of them cleaner looking but still road roughened and tense. The leader glances up when Carl enters the room. His gaze traces Carl from his messy hair to his shoes. Carl feels his face grow warm under the scrutiny.

“Carl, come help me with this,” Denise says, waving him over.

The man’s head snaps up at his name, and Carl quickly moves over to the woman. Denise is stitching up a cut for a young Asian man, who’s hissing in pain every time she makes a move.

“Quit moving,” Denise says, handing Carl a bloody pair of scissors. “Help me hold his arm down.”

Carl places his hands onto the man’s forearms as Denise continues her work. The other group members are staring at them, in case they hurt the Asian man, apparently.

“ _Ow_ , kid, geez! You grip tight,” the man yelps, gritting his teeth. A young woman next to him shushes him, brushing his hair out of his eyes.

“Sorry, it’ll be over soon,” Carl replies, watching closely as Denise ties a knot and snips off the excess string. Carl releases the man’s arm to mop at the blood dripping all over him. He cleans the floor immediately.

Denise moves on to the others, examining cuts and bruises, making sure no one has a broken bone or concussion. Carl sees the baby girl scrunching her face, just about to cry, in the arms of an older woman with short grey hair. He walks over to take a closer look at the baby, and the woman glances at their leader in question. When the man nods once, she smiles thinly at Carl and lets him stand right up next to Judith. The baby is gorgeous with powdery eyelashes and golden curls. Carl reaches up to stroke her cheek. She grumbles and snatches his finger. The woman’s little smile grows warmer.

“She likes you,” the woman says, rocking Judith a bit. “I’m Carol, by the way.”

“Nice to meet you. I’m Carl,” he says, smiling. Judith releases his finger as she falls asleep. “Judith’s cute.”

Carol laughs. “Yeah, she is.”

Denise calls for Carl again, and he sends Carol an apologetic smile as he moves away. He feels the leader’s same gaze on him as he goes over to help Denise with another guy. He’s hostile and gruffy, the worn leather vest a tell-tale sign of his suggestable past. He doesn’t want Denise to check for broken ribs, despite obviously having been beat up recently. A few group members try to get him to consent to the checkup, but the man lashes out, knocking a tray to the ground. Denise sends him a look as she bends down to gather her bandages. A young woman and tough looking red head man lean down to help her. Carl gulps, eyes wide.

“It’s okay,” he begins, going nearer to the man. “We’re not going to do anything. We just want to make sure you heal up well.”

The man squints at him, hair almost hiding his eyes.

“I don’t want her hands all over me,” he says, a wheeze slightly noticeable in his voice.

Carl nods. “I can… I can do the exam? I won’t be touching you anywhere else but your ribs.”

He sees the man’s jaw tighten.

“Daryl,” the leader speaks up. “They did do some damage. Let the boy see how bad it is. We need you at your best.”

Carl keeps his head low, peering up submissively. The man relents, releasing a sigh as he motions Carl over. Denise keeps a close eye on the man. Carl moves in, barely laying his fingertips on the man’s left rib cage. Gradually pressing harder in several spots, he looks up to see Daryl’s reactions. At some areas, the man’s face contorts in pain, just enough for Carl to catch. The right rib cage is the same.

“You’ve got 2 or 3 broken ribs on your left side. The same for your right,” he says as he moves away from the man. “I’m gonna give you some medicine for the pain and try not to do any heavy lifting for 2 weeks. I’ll bring some ice over later, too.”

The man doesn’t reply to him, merely going off towards the back of the room again after Carl hands him a couple pills. Carl gnaws on his lip. Denise finishes up her routine checkups, calling Carl to help her occasionally, and then she sends the group out.

“Go talk to Olivia, see what we can ration to them. Maybe you should let someone else bring it to their house,” she says when they’re alone. “Some of them are really aggressive.”

“I think the guy, Daryl, was just scared. They’re alright; I can bring them the supplies,” he says.

Denise gives him a concerned look, but she doesn’t question him. “Just make sure you’re not alone with any of them for a long time, okay?”

“Okay, I won’t,” he says. Denise smiles at him, reaching up to comb her fingers through his hair. She pats down the cowlicks.

“Thanks, Carl. You’re a good kid,” she says. He laughs, nudging her.

“You’re biased. I grew up with you,” he says. She grins, pushing him to the door.

“Whatever you say, sunshine.”

…

Spencer sees him heading to the pantry, and he jogs over to Carl.

“Hey, where are you going?” he asks. Carl spares him a quick glance.

“The pantry. I’m gonna get some supplies for the new group,” he says, curtly. He would love if the man would leave him alone.

Spencer doesn’t take the hint. “What, the savages? Have someone else do that. I wanted to take you on a run.”

Carl purses his lips. “They’re not savages, Spencer.” He decides to ignore the man’s last sentence.

“C’mon, Carl. Didn’t you see them last night? Covered in blood and threatening us? They’re a group of animals,” he says. When Carl doesn’t reply, he moves directly in front of Carl to stop him from walking on. He rests his hands on Carl’s shoulders, looking him in the eyes. “Let’s go on a run, just the two of us. I think we should get to know each other better.”

The man’s hands slip from his shoulders to his hips, and Carl promptly shoves his hands off.

“Spencer, I’m _busy_.” He looks up at the man’s almost angry expression. “Why don’t you go on a run with someone else. I’m sure Aiden or Ron have time.”

He walks off, hearing Spencer tsk behind him. Carl just barely misses Daryl watching him from the steps of a building.

…

He finds himself standing in front of their door, holding a big crate of supplies and not knowing what to say or do. He probably looks weird, just standing out here, not moving. He eventually decides to knock, wondering where they are. It takes a while before anyone answers the door. It’s the leader, freshly shaven and shirtless. Carl’s mouth dries up in nervousness. He holds out the crate.

“Hi, I got you and your friends some supplies. I’ll be back with extra food and ice for Daryl,” he says, smiling.

“Thank you.” The man takes the crate and looks at him with an odd expression. He doesn’t seem comfortable around people who aren’t a part of his group. “We were just cleaning up.”

Carl bites his lip, still smiling. He sees a smudge of shaving cream on the man’s jaw. “You still got some shaving cream…”

The man swipes his jaw on his shoulder, wiping off the white smear. Carl puts his hands in his pockets.

“I’m Carl,” he offers.

“I know,” the man answers, voice deep with a Southern drawl. “I’m Rick.”

Carl’s urges his heart to stop pounding at the name alone; he’s met other Ricks along the way. He knows his father’s dead, died in that hospital bed in Georgia. He looks at the man and finds Rick studying him, still. He notices Rick’s long hair, curly and damp.

“You know I could give you a trim? I’m not a stylist or anything, but I can shorten it?” He asks.

“You don’t even know me,” Rick says, looking him up and down. Carl knows what the statement implies.

“I can take care of myself,” he answers, meeting Rick’s eyes. The man opens the door wider to invite him in.

…

“I live with Aaron and Eric,” he says, snipping off a few more strands of Rick’s hair. “They took care of me since I was 13.”

Rick’s not a talkative person, but Carl knows that he’s hanging onto every word.

“I’m usually in the infirmary with Denise and, uh, Pete, but I also take care of the kids. Judith could join the daycare we have. If that’s okay with you and…” he trails off, not sure if Rick’s married. The man shakes his head.

“It’s just me,” he says.

“I’m sorry.”

After a moment’s pause, Rick speaks up.

“That’ll be good. Judith should be with other people more.”

Carl smiles. “Yeah.”

“And… thank you. For convincing Deanna to let us in,” Rick adds. “It’s different outside. Life or death.”

“You’re welcome,” Carl says, brushing some hair off the back of Rick’s neck. The man’s skin is warm under his fingers. “It takes a while getting used to this place. It’s okay if you need time adjusting.”

He hands Rick the mirror and watches as Rick sees himself for the first time in a while.

…

Deanna invites everyone to a welcoming party that night. Carl and Eric spend time making some finger foods while Aaron’s outside the gates doing who knows what. Eric gets ready first, and then he takes the food to help Deanna set up for the party. He’s supposed to leave the party early to eat dinner with Aaron because his ankle’s still giving him problems, but he’s an utter gentleman to the Alexandrian people. He gives Carl a hug and heads out. Carl takes his time cleaning up the kitchen before he hops into the shower and scrubs himself down. He decides to clean up his hair, combing and re-combing his curls until they look somewhat presentable. He stands at his closet for a while debating on what to wear.

In the end, he just puts on a casual blue button up that Aaron got for him. He thought it would bring out Carl’s blue eyes. Black pants and his boots complete the look. His thoughts wander to Rick, and he wonders if the man’s also getting ready. Rick is an attractive man, Carl’s not going to lie about that, and he is definitely going to turn heads tonight. Carl wonders how Rick’s partner would feel. Smug, maybe, at how lucky they are to have him. Carl would be smug if he were Rick’s partner. He catches himself at that thought and pushes it out of his head.

He leaves his house, strolling past the wide lake in the center of town and heading toward the main buildings. There’re people already going inside, all dressed up pretty and prim. Carl brushes his fingers through his hair again and enters the house. The first thing that catches his eyes is Rick, who’s sipping his bourbon, looking right at him. The man looks gorgeous, and Carl is awestruck. He’s about to smile back, but suddenly, Ron brushes up next to him and pulls him along.

“Wow, Carl. You look great,” the boy says, looking him up and down appreciatively.

Carl forces a laugh, twisting his head back to try and see where Pete has snuck off to. “You do, too, Ron.”

Ron flushes, and Carl takes the moment to scout out Enid.

“Look, Enid! Go talk to her!” He exclaims, pushing Ron towards her. Before the boy can object, Carl slips away from him and into the kitchen. He hopes Pete won’t follow him. Olivia is there, and she grins at him.

“Looking good, hot stuff,” she remarks.

He comes over and swipes a hors d'oeuvre off a tray. “Right back at you, Liv. Eric left already?”

“Yup,” she says and then frowns at him. “How come you’re not hanging out with the other kids?”

“Ron’s talking to Enid,” Carl lies. “I think Sam’s with Jessie. I’m ok by myself.”

Olivia tuts. “If you say so. I’d like it if you spent more time with people your age.”

Carl eats something off another tray. “I do! There’s just more old people here than young.”

The woman laughs. Carl pops a fruit tart into his mouth before going back out to the living room. Deanna spots Carl and waves him over, introducing him to a few of the new people. Abraham is friendly enough, Rosita is intimidatingly beautiful, Glenn is funny in an older brother way, Maggie is kind, and Eugene is awkward. Michonne, powerful but closed off, actually smiles at him. Carl likes her the most. He gets to bounce Judith on his hip at some point. Throughout the introductions and small talk, Carl finds himself gravitating towards Rick, and soon enough, he’s walking right up to the man.

“How do you like the people here?” he asks, leaning against the wall next to Rick. The man turns to look at him, and Carl’s breath catches in his throat. Rick’s blue-grey eyes shine something spectacular with the sunset coming through the window.

“Not sure yet,” he says bluntly. Carl tilts his head in question. “Ask me again in a couple of days, and I’ll have a better answer.”

Carl nods. “Sounds about right.”

Rick’s eyes flicker to something behind Carl.

“Who’s that?” he asks. Carl turns to see Pete talking to Spencer, both of them laughing at something. “The older one.”

Carl sighs. “Pete, the doctor. He’s married to Jessie.”

Rick looks back down at him. “He’s been watching you the whole time he’s been here.”

“You noticed that?” Carl asks. Rick glances back up at Pete.

“Yeah,” Rick takes another sip of his drink. “He do that often?”

The boy nods again, wondering if he should tell Rick. He hasn’t even told Aaron. “Yeah. He’s… he does that a lot.”

Rick makes a grunt in reply. Carl notices the predatorial way he looks at Pete, like he’s assessing the man.

“Is the kid your boyfriend?”

Carl jumps up. “Who, Ron?”

Rick doesn’t say anything.

“No. He’s dating Enid. He’s Pete’s son by the way.”

The man holds back a smile, but Carl can see the way his mouth twitches. “I’m starting to get the idea that a lot of people are interested in you.”

Carl scoffs. “No way. Not me.”

“How old are you?”

He squints at Rick. “I’m not a kid.”

“I know. How old are you?” Rick repeats.

“15, 16. Something like that.”

Rick nods.

“How old are _you_? 30?

The man looks at him, amused. “Plus 7.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

Carl toes at the living room rug before he pushes himself off the wall, remembering Eric and Aaron are at home eating.

“I’m gonna head out,” he says. The man looks at him.

“Okay.”

Carl smiles and turns away, walking out the front door.

…

He comes home to find Daryl having dinner with Aaron and Eric. They’re having spaghetti with wine. Daryl looks at him, eyes less pensive that earlier and brighter with curiosity.

“Sorry, am I interrupting?” Carl asks.

Aaron and Eric turn to look at Daryl. The man shrugs.

“It’s your house, too,” he grumbles.

“Come eat with us, Carl. The party must have been pretentious,” Aaron laughs.

“Thanks, I’ll have a plate. Yeah, you know Spencer wore _cologne_ ,” he jokes. Eric chuckles. Aaron nudges him.

“Oh, _wow_!” Aaron says, biting back a smile. “Nice shirt by the way. I wonder who was kind enough to get it for you.”     

Carl takes his plate from him, setting down at the table. “ _Thanks_ , Aaron.”

Everyone resumes eating. Daryl practically inhales his spaghetti, and Carl is glad that he’s at least allowing their interaction.

“Daryl, I heard you like crossbows. Carol was telling us,” he says, trying to get some conversation going.

To his surprise, the man nods.

“Yeah, it’s more accurate than a gun.”

“That’s cool,” Eric says. “Carl’s always wanted to try one, but Aaron thinks it’s too dangerous for him.”

Daryl wipes his mouth with a napkin.

“Nah, it’s not that bad. Dangerous if you don’t take precautions,” he says. Hesitating a bit, he adds. “I could teach you sometime. Some lessons outside the gates, maybe.”

The whole room brightens up. Carl grins.

“Really? That’ll be great!” He turns to Aaron. “Please, Aaron. I won’t do anything stupid.”

Aaron grimaces at his pleading and at Carl’s eager look.

“I guess it’ll be okay,” he finallt says. Eric high fives Carl.

“Thanks, Daryl. I look forward to it,” he says, smiling sweetly.

The man grunts, but Carl sees him hide a little smile. He’s starting to think that the new group isn’t so bad after all.

…

Enid climbs into his bedroom window sometime after midnight with a big slice of chocolate cake. Carl is startled awake by her shoving him to the other side of the bed.

“What the hell, E?” he asks, scooting over so she has room to sit next to him. “It’s the middle of the night!”

She rolls her eyes, holding out the cake. “Want some or not?”

Carl jumps up, taking a fork from her as they dig in.

“Why didn’t you share it with Ron or something?” he asks, still chewing on a huge bite.  

Enid shifts awkwardly, twirling her fork.

“I think we’re gonna break up.”

Carl tilts his head. “How come? I thought you guys were alright.”

“We don’t really like each other anymore. Ron’s been distant. I think he likes someone else.” She gives him a pointed look.

“Oh,” Carl says, leaning back against his headboard. “Listen, Enid, I never led him on-.”

She pokes him hard in the side. “I know.”

Silence falls over them as they finish the last of the cake.

“So, what’s with you and the new guy?” Enid asks.

“What? Who?”

“You _know_ , hottie with the blue eyes. _Rick_ ,” she says, drawing out his name.   

“Nothing,” Carl says, trying to brush her off. “We were just talking.”

“Right,” she snorts. “You used to give Aaron heart eyes, too.”

He playfully bats her. “I was a teenager going through puberty! He protects me; of course, I had a stupid crush on him.”

She laughs. “But you like Rick. You weren’t being discrete, dumbass.”

“Jesus Christ, E. Go and rat me out like that,” he sighs.

“Okay, you weren't that obvious. I just guessed,” she admits. He swats at her. She punches him on the shoulder. “But seriously, Carl, he’s dangerous.”

“I know! What do you think I’m gonna do? Force myself onto him?” Carl rolls his eyes. “He’s my dad’s age, and he’s totally straight.”

Enid’s laugh is short and loud. He has to cover her mouth before she wakes Aaron and Eric.

“Boys are so stupid,” she says, mostly to herself. “You had a crush on _Aaron,_ your father figure. What’s Rick’s age got to do with anything?”

“Rick’s not like Aaron. He’s just… older and gruffier,” Carl mutters. “They’re on two different spectrums. And he has my dad’s name.”

“Whatever. You need to get laid, Carl. You’re wasting your youth,” she says, grinning at him.

“Says _you_! A virgin, too,” Carl shoots back at her. She raises an eyebrow. Carl’s jaw drops.

“Ron?! When, where, and how?”

“Don’t you wanna know?” she remarks. “When you get laid, I’ll tell you everything. For now, sulk in virginity, Carl. Later!”

With that, she scrambles out his window, leaving the plate and forks in Carl’s room. Eric opens the door a few minutes later, looking drowsy and rubbing his eyes.

“Was that Enid?” he yawns.

Carl pouts. “Yeah.”

Eric nods. “Okay. Go brush your teeth and go to bed, Carl.”

“Okay.”

…

He doesn’t see Rick as much as he would like in the next few days, but the glimpses they catch of each other only strengthen their odd relationship. Carl’s sitting by the lake one day after a long day working with Pete in the infirmary. The man had profusely asked him to have dinner with him, and Carl had had enough of the man’s insinuations. He throws bits of goldfish pellets at the fish that are starting to breed. He doesn’t expect Rick to show up, but the next thing he knows, the man’s sliding down the little crest to join him on the grass. Carl gives him a smile.

“Hey,” he says, offering the bag of pellets to Rick to throw at the fish. The man does.

“Hey yourself,” Rick replies, a tiny smile on the edges of his lips. “What are you moping around for?”

“I’m not moping.”

Rick glances at him. “Daryl said he saw you walk down here an hour ago.”

Carl scowls. “Long day.”

Rick hums, leaning back to lay on the slope of the grass. “Pete again?”

Carl lets out a laugh, high pitched and curt. “There’s no way you guessed that.”

“Nah,” Rick says. “Your reaction just told me.”

“Well, shit.”

The boy follows Rick’s lead, flopping onto the grass. They lie in silence, watching fat clouds drift overhead. The sky is darkening by the time Rick speaks up again.

“Michonne’s making dinner. Come eat with us.”

Carl sits up. “Can I?”

“Didn’t I just ask you?” Rick smirks, standing up and walking ahead. Carl jogs up next to him.

The group actually welcomes Carl, enthusiastically setting him a seat sandwiched by Judith and Rick. Glenn, the young man Denise stitched up, is friendly with him, making small talk to get him to relax. Carl notices the way Rick watches him, studying his interactions with the others. He makes eye contact with the man several times, each time more and more open with his smiles.

“How long do you guys plan to stay?” Carl asks, taking a sip of his lemonade. Everyone looks to Rick.

The man shrugs. “As long as we’re welcome.”

“You guys have been great help for the community. I think Deanna respects that you guys can fight,” Carl says. “We need more fighters.”

“Can you fight, Carl? I heard you were on the road for a while with Aaron before Alexandria,” Maggie asks, passing a basket of fresh baked rolls over to Tara.

Carl halts for moment, a brief memory surfacing in his mind.

“Yeah… yeah, I can fend for myself,” he says, shaking the images out of his mind. “Some people were nice enough to teach me.”

“That’s good,” Michonne says. “One less thing you need to worry about.”

Carl nods, taking the basket of rolls. Rick watches him with a hand on his chin. Carl glances innocently up at him. The man clears his throat.

“That makes you useful for runs. Have you ever gone with Aaron?” he asks.

“Yeah, a few times. Usually, he doesn’t want me outside the walls.”

Rick’s hand brushes his as Carl passes the basket to him.

“We could go on a run. Teach you some knife tricks,” he says, eyeing Carl with more intensity.

“Oh, that’s great,” Abraham says. “Rick has some _killer_ moves with that machete.”

“I’ll have to ask Aaron,” Carl says, hiding a small smile.

Abraham sends him a wink.

…

It’s been about two months since Rick and his group arrived at Alexandria. They’ve settled down rather well, the only exception being Sasha, who’s still rather wary of the change. Carl had talked to her a few times, and while she wasn’t hostile, she wasn’t friendly either. He’s tried everything he could to make them feel at home and, from the looks of it, they really appreciate his efforts. Michonne has grown close to him, as have Maggie and Glenn. He babysits Judy often, and Rick’s presence has become a familiar one.

The man is definitely a lot harder to read than the others. At times, Carl feels the man scrutinizes him with such intensity that he feels like prey under Rick’s gaze. Other times, Rick speaks to him in such a paternal manner that Carl feels like he’s his father, alive and here with him.

…

He dreams of his father, again, for the first time in a long time. Even if Carl can’t remember his face, he remembers the man’s hand in his on those Sunday afternoons. He dreams that the man is a walker, skin rotting over his yellowing bones. Carl wakes with a screech, covered in cold sweat.

Eric shuffles in, looking tired and concerned. He sits with Carl for a while, petting his hair and whispering reassurances. Carl falls asleep to the man’s soothing voice.

…

Carl’s the first to the gates when he hears the call to open up. He welcomes back Aaron, Daryl, and Glenn, all three of them soaking wet and chuckling.

“Wow, what happened?” he laughs.

Daryl holds up a line of fish, looking just a bit smug.

        “Went fishing,” he huffs, giving Carl a little smile. “Your guy needs some serious training on fish wrestling.”

        Aaron groans. “You know he jumped on them? I thought I’d seen it all.”

        Glenn laughs, too, trudging into Maggie’s arms. She takes a comical step back his dripping clothes.

       “Nuh uh, mister. Not with those clothes,” she says, eyes soft. Glenn leans in for a kiss instead.

       Carl suddenly feels wet arms settle onto his shoulders, and he screeches. Aaron squeezes him in, soaking through all of Carl’s clothes.

       “Aaron! Gross!” he yelps, flailing around. The man cackles.

      “No way, I’m not letting you off, kid!”

       When Carl looks back up, Daryl’s smiling softly at him, shyly meeting his eyes.

…  

Carl yelps when Pete’s hands slide up his thighs as he’s bent over a pantry cabinet trying to catalog the supplies Glenn and Aaron gathered during. The man’s hands travel up, massaging his hips and falling to cup his ass.

“What the fuck, Pete!” he exclaims, trying to shove the man off him. “Get _off_ me!”

Pete leans in, breath sour with whatever alcohol he’s been downing. He smiles lopsidedly and grips Carl by the chin.

“All alone and waiting for me, little dove?” He coos, lips pressing into Carl’s hair.

Carl gasps as Pete’s cold fingers dive under his shirt, curling into his soft flesh. Pete presses him hard against a metal cart, a pointed corner scratching the skin on his ribs hard enough that the thin skin there breaks. His shirt rips right along with it.

“Get off, Pete, please,” Carl says, forcing the man’s hands out from his shirt. Pete presses a kiss to his jaw, nipping at his skin. “God, no, please. _Pete_!”

Just as the man shoves his hand down Carl’s pants, someone opens the door to the pantry. Pete jerks back, adjusting himself. Carl’s breathing is ragged as he attempts to straighten his clothes.

“Carl?” Rick calls from the door. Shelves block Rick’s view of them. Pete turns to him with a confused expression. Rick walks further in. “Aaron said you’d be in here?”

Carl scrambles to his feet just as Rick rounds the corner. His narrowed eyes take in what’s left of the scene, trying to piece together the events. His nose crinkles slightly at the smell of alcohol.

“What are you doing here?” Rick eventually asks, question directed towards Pete. His tone isn’t friendly.

“I could ask you the same question,” he says. Rick’s jaw tightens. “I was helping Carl catalog the supplies.”

Carl brushes his hair from his eyes. Rick glances over him, seeing the mused clothes and skin pink from exertion. His eyes land on the bloody rip in his shirt. He comes closer, looking at Carl to ask for permission to touch him. Carl swallows and lets him advance. Rick lays a firm, warm hand on his ribs, effectively stopping the stream of blood.

“What happened?” Rick asks, all but hissing at Pete.

The boy gulps, shaking his head. “Nothing. I’m okay.”

Rick’s other hand comes up to his lower back, keeping Carl secured to his side. He frowns.

“This ain’t nothing,” he says, looking Carl in the eye.

“The kid’s right. He was clumsy, fell onto the metal,” Pete says, and Rick shoots him a glare.

“ _Shut up_ ,” he snaps. “Get out.”

In Pete’s drunken astonishment, he does as he’s told, walking out of the pantry as fast as he can. Carl releases the breath that he didn’t realize he was holding. Rick pulls back his hand, looking at the blood that’s smeared all over his palm.

“Let’s get you to Denise,” Rick says, gently pulling him along out the pantry. Pete’s nowhere to be found, thank god.

There’re a few people on the streets, eyeing them as they pass. Carl curls closer to Rick’s side, trying to hide his embarrassment. Denise is in her home, tidying up, when they knock on the door. She gets Carl’s cut patched up after disinfecting the wound. He lies to her, telling her that it was the result of his own clumsiness, and she scolds him for it. The whole time, Rick stays at his side and doesn’t utter a word. As they leave Denise’s place in silence, Rick reaches out and presses a hand against his lower back, guiding him. Carl trots along, wary.

“Rick? Where are we going?”

The man’s blue eyes land on him, a small smile at the corner of his lips.

“Judith was asking for you,” he responds. “Figured she just wanted you to read to her.”

A bright smile lights up his face.

“She asked for  _ me _ ?” He asks, feeling a bit dreamy. The man’s smile widens.

“Yeah, you.”

Carl ends up reading a book about astronomy to Judith, his familiar voice easily lulling her to sleep. Rick comes back to the house and looks at them in surprise.

“You put her to sleep just by reading to her?” He whispers as Carl gently eases her into her crib.

“Yeah,” Carl says when they exit her room, gently shutting the door behind him. “You should learn a thing or two from me.”

Rick snorts, nudging him with his elbow. Carl laughs and stretches out his back before leaning forward to rummage through the basket that Rick’s holding. There’s expired canned tomato soup, a loaf of bread, some sort of fruit spread, and cheese.

“Holy shit, Olivia gave you cheese?” he asks, pulling out the package.

“Uh huh,” Rick affirms, going to the kitchen. Carl follows, organizing the food. “Most of the others are out helping out with everything. I thought I’d make an early dinner.”

Carl nods. “Okay. I can help.”

They make grilled cheese sandwiches and soup, and they settle at the island counter to eat.

“This is good,” Carl remarks, finishing his first sandwich and reaching for a second. Rick hums. “Did you used to cook before?”

Rick hums again. “Yeah, my wife wasn’t much of a chef. I made meals by myself.”

“That sucks, but I hate cooking, too.”

The man shrugs. “I got used to it.”

Carl eats his soup, watching Rick as he too sips his soup. Rick glances up at him and then averts his gaze. They finish their meals in relative silence, and Carl places their bowls into the sink. Just when he thinks Rick’s not going to say any more, the man talks.

“What happened earlier, I’m not going to forget it,” he says. Carl swallows. “Whatever Pete was trying to do, you can tell me anytime. I… I won’t tell the others.”

“Okay,” Carl says, clearing his throat. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Rick reaches up a tentative hand, gently guiding it up to rest on the back of Carl’s neck. Carl leans into his touch.

…

A couple of stray walkers end up within the gates, probably from a weak spot in the wall. There’s a commotion a few houses down, and Carl rushes over to find people screaming in fear. He pulls his knife out and stalks over before anyone else can react. He doesn’t see Rick, Daryl, Deanna, or the others running up behind him. The closest walker to him growls, coming at him. Carl stabs it in the head, hard, and pulls out the knife swiftly to take down the next. The third walker goes down with a blunt kick to the back of its knees, and Carl easily crushes its skull with the heel of his boot. Aaron swipes the last one with his knife and quickly moves over to Carl to check for scratches or wounds.

“Check the walls!” Deanna calls, sending a couple men to the area the walkers came from. She walks over to Carl and Aaron. She pats him on the cheek. “Looks like I’ve been holding you back. We’ll make a fine leader out of you someday.”

Carl smiles and wipes walker blood from his face. She smirks up at Aaron.

“You’re doing a damn good job with him,” she says. Then she looks Carl up and down. “Puberty’s been kind, Carl. It’s been _very_ kind to you.”

Aaron laughs. “Thanks, Deanna. No need to fuel his ego any further.”

Carl blushes and punches him lightly in the shoulder.

“Thanks, Deanna. I’m glad I could help.”

In the corner of his eyes, he sees Rick’s heated gaze as the man suddenly seems to be admiring him from afar. Carl’s flush only deepens.

…

Spencer comes to his house one night, while Eric and Aaron are busy discussing some matters with Deanna and Reg. It’s late, and Carl’s already gotten ready for bed. He’s literally only in a thin shirt and boxers when the man knocks on the door. Spencer invites himself in and kicks back on the sofa.

“Can I help you, Spencer?” Carl asks, teeth gritting. “I was about to sleep.”

The man turns to him, smiling widely.

“I heard about what you did with the walkers the other day,” he replies. “You’re becoming really reliable, Carl.”

He’s basically cooing as he gets up and moves closer to Carl. Carl backs up, frowning.

“It’s everyone’s duty to protect each other,” he says, stumbling backwards. He feels the wall against his back, and he gasp when Spencer lays his hands on his hips.

“You’re so pretty, Carl. You’ve really grown up well,” he says, holding Carl against the wall. “Remember how we used to kiss? I been wanting this for a long time.”

He leans in to capture Carl’s lips, groaning. Carl gasps, turning his head to the side.

“Spencer, stop it.”

The man shakes his head and continues kissing down his neck. “Don’t be difficult now, baby. Remember the fun we used to have?”

Carl pushes him off.

“I already told you. It was a one-time thing, and it was ages ago,” he spits out. “Just forget it, Spencer.”

The man gets angry now. “A one-time thing? How could you even say that? What we had was real.”

Carl scoffs.

“Spencer, I sucked your dick during a run last year. We were both horny and pent up. It  _ wasn’t _ real,” he says, putting as much conviction as he can into his words. Then, he pushes Spencer towards the door. “Don’t try to touch me again, or I swear to god.”

The man grinds his teeth. “You’re going to regret this, Carl. I know you will, because no one will touch you like I do.”

Carl shoves him out the door.

“That’s the point, dipshit,” he snarls and slams the door.

…

Carl has his first crossbow lesson with Daryl in the woods. It’s oddly comforting to be back out in the wild. Carl thinks that every time he’s allowed outside the gates. Daryl is a surprisingly patient teacher. He shows Carl how to hold the weapon, how to place it just right in the hand for more accuracy. Carl stumbles a few times, misses a couple walkers, but Daryl never patronizes him. The man speaks to him in a soft tone, sometimes looking amused at Carl’s boyish awkwardness. Carl really likes spending time with him.

He shoots his first walker in the head by the late afternoon, and Daryl high fives him. They go back into Alexandria feeling light hearted, sweaty, and smelling like the forest. Rick and Aaron are there to greet them, slight smiles on their faces. Carl swears that Rick’s eyes grow darker at the sight of him, sweat soaked through his thin shirt. Aaron winks at him.

“How was it? Are you happy now?”

Carl grins, feeling somewhat sluggish from all the effort he put into his lesson. Daryl gently nudges him as he passes by.

“It was great. Daryl’s a good teacher,” he says. Aaron grins.

“What about you, Daryl? How’d it go? Was Carl good?” the man asks.

Daryl nods. “Yeah, he was good. He’s a good shot.”

Aaron walks over to help the man carry the animals he shot for dinner. They chat.

Rick huffs a laugh, looking Carl up and down. He reaches over to wipe off a smudge of dirt on Carl’s face. His nose wrinkles slightly. Carl catches it and moves back quickly.

“Sorry, I must stink,” he laughs.

Rick shakes his head. “It’s not that. You smell… different. I don’t mind it.”

Carl frowns. “Different? Like what?”

The man leans in, closer than Carl thought he would, and takes a deep whiff right behind his ear. Carl blushes. Rick smirks as he leans away, just a small one.

“Like the earth. Kinda woodsy and sweaty,” Rick says. Carl makes a face.

“Ew, I stink,” he says.

Rick brushes his knuckle under Carl’s chin, chucking him gently.

“You don’t. It smells good.”

Before Carl can respond, someone cuts into their talk.

“Hey, you four!” Spencer calls from afar. He looks suspicious, glaring at Rick and Carl. “Deanna wants all of you up at the house after those two shower. Dinner in 30.”

Aaron hollers back a confirmation and drags Carl home to get changed. Rick does the same to Daryl after ruffling Carl’s sweaty hair. Rick winks at him. Carl returns the gesture and sends the man off laughing.

…

Carl helps out with farming sometimes. He hangs around Maggie, trying to learn something from her green thumb. The woman is amazing. She’s sweet on him. She teaches him how to trim the fruit trees for more plentiful harvests. She sends him home with sweet smelling flowers every day. When Pete comes looking for Carl, she brushes him off and pulls Carl closer to herself.

Michonne is just as cool, if not more, as Maggie. She spars with him from time to time, teaching him to use his small stature and speed to his advantage. Once he gets good enough, she says, he’ll even be able to take down Abraham one on one. He’s seen her do it. She makes jokes and tells his funny stories when she opens up more.

Daryl continues his crossbow lessons, and Carl gets good enough that he can catch a few squirrels for a nice little meal. Daryl shows him a small swimming hole in an opening in the forest. They strip down to their underwear and hop in. The water is cool on Carl’s heated skin. Daryl is very handsome without his hair in his face and dirt on his skin.

Carl spends most of his time with Rick. The man listens to him rant about random things. He grows very protective of Carl. The townspeople love to talk about the two of them. If Rick hears any of it, he doesn’t say a word about it to Carl. Spencer tries to flirt with Carl in front of Rick, but he’s mostly angry at the boy for rejecting him. Rick studies their interactions and grows irritated of Spencer’s attempts. He keeps Carl close to him. As the days go by, Carl notices that Rick touches him more and more. He likes it. Rick can tell.

…

The infirmary runs low on bandages, and Carl informs Deanna first. She tells him to go and ask Rick if there’s anyone in his group who can volunteer for the run. Most of her boys are out at the moment.

“I’ll go,” Rick says as he’s skinning dinner with Daryl.

“Alone?”

The man looks at him, blue eyes so deep and dark. “You can come.”

He says it like a statement, not a question. Carl blinks, taken back.

“You want _me_ to come with you?” he asks.

“Sure.” Rick shrugs.

“Do you even trust me to have your back?” Carl says.

Daryl squints up at him. “What’s not to trust? We saw you… those walkers the other day.”

Rick nods. “You took them down fast. It was good.”

Carl blinks even more. Rick wipes his brow with the back of his brow and looks up at him.

“So, what do you say?”

“Uh, I have to ask Aaron.”

Rick nods again. “Alright. Tell me tomorrow night.”

…

Aaron returns home to find Carl on the couch, a book in his hands.

“By your lonesome again, kiddo?” he asks, hanging up his coat at the door. “Can’t be healthy.”

“Why does everyone think I’m lonely? Olivia, Rick, now you,” he asks, sitting up on the couch. Aaron raises an eyebrow, grabbing an apple in the kitchen basket.

“Well, let me tell you something, Carl. If everyone thinks you are, then you just might be,” he says, hiding a smile. Carl rolls his eyes.

“Well, I’m not,” he states, flopping back down onto the couch.

Aaron bites into his apple. “Alright then, hun. I’m going to bed early. You should get some rest, too.”

“Uh huh,” Carl murmurs. And then calls out, “Aaron?”

The man stops in the middle of the stairs. “Yeah, Carl?”

“Rick asked if I wanted to go on a supply run with him,” he begins, talking slowly so Aaron can contemplate his words.

“And? What’d you say?”

Carl shrugs. “What do _you_ say?”

Aaron purses his lips. Carl can tell he’s thinking about, really thinking about it.

“Carl, you know I only want you to be safe,” Aaron begins. Carl’s heart sinks, and Aaron can see it. The man hesitates for a moment and then sighs deeply. “Fine. Okay? You can go.”

Carl jumps up, eyes blown wide.

“Really?” he yells. Aaron can’t help but smile.

“Yeah, really.”

Carl runs over and grabs him into a hug. Aaron rubs his cheek, patting his hair affectionately.

“Let me just say, you’re a pain in my ass.”

The boy smiles widely at him. “I’ll be good, I swear. Rick can vouch for me.”

Aaron smiles oddly at him.

“You really like him, huh?” He remarks. “You’re always with him, always talking about him.”

Carl nods furiously. “I like him  _ a lot _ , and Daryl, and Michonne. They’re awesome.”

His caretaker peers down at him, curiously, for a second longer before he shrugs and chuckles.

“I’m off to bed. Rest early, Carl,” he says, leaving the boy to his own devices.

…

Carl scales up the side of the house like a lizard and knocks on Rick’s bedroom window. He saw the light turn on and off before he actually climbed up. He’s sure Rick’s about to go to bed. The man opens the window surprisingly quick, and the shock that skits across his face is replaced by a genuine grin. He looks at Carl, who’s balanced on the drainage pipe.

“ _Hey_!” Carl whispers, smiling. Rick lets out a bark of laughter, moving to let him jump inside.

“Hey yourself,” he says. “I can’t believe you climbed up here!”

Carl pats himself down and throws off his sooty outer jacket. He kicks off his boots next and literally strips off his shirt to reveal a thin t-shirt. Rick watches him with something close to want, but that could also be Carl’s overactive teenage imagination.

“Well, I did,” he says smugly. “I know you’re impressed.”

Rick scoffs. “Maybe just a little.”

Carl socks him in the shoulder and moves further into the room. He lets his fingers trail over the bed post to the lush looking queen-sized bed. It looks ruffled, like Rick had just been lying in it. There’re a few garments tossed over the back of a chair at a neat little desk. Rick lets Carl invade his personal bubble, letting him roam and touch and look. Carl’s surprised, but he doesn’t question it.

“Comfy bed,” he says, giving the mattress a firm push before throwing himself onto it. Rick raises an eyebrow. Carl lets out an exasperated sigh. “That’s obviously not why I came here.”

“Alright. What did you come here for?” Rick humors him, sitting down on the bed and patting the seat next to him. Carl sits, thigh rubbing against Rick’s.

“Aaron said I could go on the run,” Carl says. “With you. Alone… yeah.”

“Great. We’ll head out the day after tomorrow,” Rick says, looking pleased. His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows.

“Ok.”

Carl fidgets and shyly looks back up at Rick. He catches the man staring at his pink lips, and Rick’s eyes trail back up to meet his. Carl swallows. He hadn’t realized how close they were sitting until now. Rick’s hand comes up to his waist, hovering there for a second before actually falling to meet his body. Carl’s breath catches in his throat because, oh god, Rick’s leaning in.

“Carl. Is this ok?” Rick asks, his accent low and sexy, and Carl isn’t even breathing anymore. Rick’s lips brush the shell of Carl’s ear, and his grip on Carl’s waist tightens.

“Yes,” Carl says, voice coming out a lot breathier than he expects. He tentatively puts a hand onto Rick’s back to guide him closer. The man obliges, pressing his body closer to Carl’s. Rick is hesitant, Carl can feel it, so he makes the move to curl his fingers into Rick’s hair and bring his head down.

“Kiss me, Rick. Please,” he murmurs, eyes hooded with desire. Rick nods and slots their lips together. Carl groans, his body arching into Rick’s on impulse. The man’s lips move skillfully with his, while Carl attempts to keep up with his movements. Carl’s lack of experience is endearing to Rick, and Rick chuckles against his mouth.

“Baby,” he breaths between their kisses. Carl pulls him closer, so close that their bodies are flush against each other. Rick moves him more onto the bed, the whole time ravishing Carl’s mouth. They lie on their sides, holding each other. Carl gasps when Rick’s hands move under his shirt and meets his bare skin. Rick gently caresses his hips, moving up to stroke the notches of his spine. Carl shivers, nipping at Rick’s lips harder.

Carl’s not sure when exactly they stopped kissing, but at some point, Rick pulls him under the blankets and holds him tight until he’s asleep.

…

He wakes to the feeling of fingers prodding into him. He moans, loud and wanton, and Rick huffs a laugh right next to his ear. Carl rolls onto his stomach, muffling a string of curses into his pillow. Rick brushes a hand through his hair.

“It’s still early. Go back to sleep, Carl,” he murmurs. Carl’s chest heaves when Rick’s fingers brush his prostate.

“How the hell am I supposed to sleep if you’re finger fucking me?” He groans.

Rick speeds up, pushing in and out of Carl faster. The boy squirms, gasping for breath.

“Oh my god,” Carl says, pushing back against Rick’s hand. The man pulls his fingers out and moves down to grip Carl’s hips.

“Gonna taste you, boy. Put my tongue in you,” he says before leaning in and closing his mouth over Carl’s entrance.

It draws a rough moan from Carl, and Rick starts to lick and suck.

“Rick, holy shit!” He yelps, voice an octave higher.

The man laughs, kissing both ass cheeks. He delves his tongue into Carl, making the boy gasp. He follows a rhythm, licking and sucking and fucking, until Carl bites the pillow and cums onto the sheets. Rick kisses Carl’s thigh as the boy falls limp onto the bed.

“Good boy,” he growls, relishing the sight of the flush spreading over Carl’s torso and face. Carl turns around sluggishly and reaches up to pull Rick onto him for a kiss. He tastes himself on Rick’s tongue, and it’s oddly thrilling. The man’s body is toned and firm over his, and Carl can feel the man’s thick cock against his thigh. Carl pulls back just enough to talk.

“Do you want me to…?” He trails off shyly. They look down at the same time. Rick holds back a chuckle. Carl laughs.

“Only if you want to,” Rick says. Carl snakes a hand down and grips him tight. Rick intakes a sharp breath.

“You’re big,” Carl remarks, stroking the length. Rick’s breath quickens.

“Just a forewarning,” Rick says. “I haven’t had a release in months.”

Carl grins and rolls them over. He kisses down Rick’s Adonis belt and presses a small kiss to the tip of Rick’s cock. Rick’s smell is stronger down here, and Carl almost moans at the prospect of sucking his dick.

“Hey there,” he murmurs, lips against it. He hears Rick groan and laugh.

“Are you talking to my erection?” he asks.

“Rick Jr. is _really_ excited,” Carl answers. Rick muffles a loud laugh.

Carl wastes no time in taking the whole length into his mouth, swirling his mouth around the tip. Rick moans, hips buckling up. Carl gags but immediately wills his gag reflex to relax. Rick pets his hair in apology. Carl pulls back with a pop, a string of saliva connecting to the tip.

“You can thrust in. I can take it,” he says. A lusty, almost pained expression flashes over Rick’s face. He falls back onto the pillow when Carl swallows him again.

It doesn’t take long before Rick’s rasping out a warning and he’s coming down Carl’s raw feeling throat. It’s salty and heady, and Carl swallows everything. When he’s done, he sticks his tongue out to show the man, and Rick groans. He pulls Carl up by his armpits and pulls him into his lap. He kisses Carl so hard Carl’s lips swell red. Their teeth clash; Carl giggles.

“Carl,” he growls, running his hands over the boy’s soft skin.

Carl bares his throat for Rick’s mouth, and the man moves in, biting and sucking the thin skin there. Carl moans.

…

Carl sees Eric in the afternoon, and the man gives him a quizzical look but doesn’t ask him where he had been. Instead, he produces a simple, silver silencer.

“This is for you for the run. Just in case,” Eric says. Carl takes it.

“Thanks.” He looks up to see Eric’s worried face. He reaches up to hug the man. “Why are you guys so worried, geez! It’s just a run! I’ll be fine.”

Eric squeezes him, pulling back with a smile. “You never know, Carl. The woods are dangerous.”

“I know, Eric. I’ve been out there before.”

The man nods, giving his should a last squeeze. “Ok. I need to chat with Olivia, so I’ll see you in a bit.”

…

Abraham spars with him, and Carl isn’t surprised when he gets knocked on his ass again. Tara throws him a towel to mop off his sweat, and Glenn’s slow clapping.

“Amazing, Abe. We can all see how strong you’ve gotten from knocking a kid down,” he teases. The red headed man noogies him, and they all laugh. Carl goes over to Judith, who’s cooing and whining in Rosita’s arms. He hugs her, rocking her and humming her a song. She calms down and rubs her face into Carl’s sweaty neck.

…

Spencer comes out of nowhere, grabbing Carl by the throat and slamming in against the side of a secluded house. Carl yelps and glares at him. The man looks pissed.

“ _Really_? You’re going on a run with the savage leader?” he snarls.

“What’s it to you?” Carl hisses at him. “I’m not yours.”

Spencer grits his teeth, hand curling tighter around Carl’s throat. His eyes flit down to the purpling bruises there. He tugs Carl’s shirt collar down so hard the fabric rips. Carl flinches, trying to hold the ripped collar up, but it hangs down, revealing most of his chest.

“You’re fucking him?” Spencer asks, eyes wild. He grips Carl’s neck again.

Carl doesn’t answer.

“Why him, Carl? Why him and not me?” he asks, voice growing desperate. “I’ve done everything for you! I could just take you right here, right now.”

The boy flinches and tugs at Spencer’s hand. “Let go, Spencer.”

The man punches the wall next to Carl’s head.

“You’re a fucking whore,” he says, blocking Carl in with his arms. “First Pete, then me, now Rick.”

Carl jaw tightens. “Nothing ever happened between Pete and I.”

Spencer shakes his head. “Shut up, Carl. He told me.”

“I have to wonder what he’s told you. Did he tell you how he’s been trying to rape me since I got here?” Carl spits, pushing the man as hard as he can. “ _Fuck off_ , Spencer. I mean it.”

Spencer hits him, and it happens so fast Carl doesn’t have time to react. It’s a hard slap across the face, and Carl’s holding his mouth, watching blood drip onto the grass. He looks up with a hard look. Spencer looks ready to give him another hit.

“You really messed up this time,” Carl says, threatening. “Aaron, Deanna, _Rick_ ; they’re gonna fuck you up.”

Rage morphs on Spencer’s face, and he raises a hand to strike Carl again. Carl braces himself, but the hit never comes. He opens his eyes to see Daryl gripping Spencer’s wrist. He looks terrifyingly angry, and Spencer sinks back in fear.

“This what I think it is?” he asks, voice low.

Spencer shakes his head. “No, you don’t-. He was-”

Daryl punches him across the face, and Spencer stumbles away. Daryl grabs him and shoves him out into the streets. People cry out in alarm as Daryl keeps beating him.

“You think I didn’t see what was going on? You _fucker_!” Daryl hollers. Spencer hits the ground, nose gushing blood. He coughs and groans.

Carl clutches his bleeding mouth as Rick and his group runs over. He keeps one hand on his shirt collar to keep his chest clothed. Rick reaches Daryl first, pulling him away from Spencer. He whispers to him in a low voice, trying to convince Daryl to calm down. Michonne comes to Carl, gently urging his face up so she can see where he’s bleeding from. Carl spits a mouthful of blood onto the ground.

“It’s the inside of my cheek,” Carl says. Michonne frowns, concerned.

“And your nose.” She mops at the stream of blood.

Deanna arrives, moving both parties away from each other. Daryl growls at Spencer. Rick keeps a hold on him but scoots over to put a hand on Carl’s reddening cheek. Carl keeps his head up to subdue his bloody nose. His eyes land on the torn shirt collar. Rick’s eyes narrow, and he turns his cold gaze onto Spencer.

“What the hell is happening here?” Deanna demands, glaring accusationally at Daryl. Her eyes fall onto Carl’s bloody face. She gives her son a withering look.

“That bastard attacked Carl, is what,” Daryl yells, stalking back and forth like an animal in reins behind Rick’s outstretched arm. “Had him cornered, yelling at him, _hitting him_!”

He lunges again. This time, Sasha and Glenn hold him back, too. Carl spits out another mouthful of blood. Aaron and Eric come running over, shotguns in their hands. Aaron reaches Carl and pulls him into his arms. Carl clutches him, inhaling the man’s familiar scent. Eric shrugs out of his jacket and drapes it over Carl’s shoulders, hiding his torn shirt. Deanna looks at Carl.

“Child, what did he want from you?” she asks softly. Carl keeps a hand on his runny nose.

With a glare to Spencer, Carl says, “he was asking me for sex.”

Everyone looks taken back. Deanna turns on her son.

“Spencer.” She looks beyond angry. “You will go straight to the house, and you will stay there. Don’t think you’re getting off this one easy. Get out of my sight.”

Reg grabs his son and pulls him away. Spencer doesn’t fight it. Aaron and Eric rub soothingly down Carl’s back. Deanna comes forward to pull him into a soft embrace.

“I’m so sorry, Carl. I’ll make sure he regrets touching you,” she mutters into his ear, patting his head.

When she’s done discussing Spencer’s punishment, she leaves with Aiden and a few others. Rick’s group stays with Carl, Aaron, and Eric. Daryl wipes blood off Carl’s nose as gently as he can, and Carl says his thanks. Daryl nods, looking grim.

“Thanks, Daryl,” Eric says, smiling sorrowly. “And you, Rick. If Daryl had killed him, the town would be chaos.”

Both men nod. Rick reaches over give Carl a squeeze on the shoulder.

…

“Oh my god, your face is a mess.”

Enid comes in, holding a Big Kat bar. Carl rolls his eyes at her.

“Thanks, Enid. I appreciate your _generous_ concern,” he says. She throws the chocolate at him, sitting down on the couch next to him.

“Don’t sass me, Carl. You really do look bad,” she leans in to look at his bruised face. “Are you ok, though?”

He nods, handing her a piece of the candy before eating his own. “Yeah. Spencer hits like a little bitch.”

She gasps.

“Spencer hit you?” she hisses. Carl shrugs.

“I told you he wanted something from me.”

“Fuck, Deanna’s gonna skin his ass.” Enid gently touches his face. “Did you put anything on that?”

“Nope.”

She gets up and grabs an icepack from the fridge.

“Dumbass, you need to,” she says and smacks the pack to his cheek.

“Thanks.”

She chews her chocolate.

“So, did Rick beat him up?”

Carl shakes his head. “Nah, Daryl did.”

“Oh,” she says, thinking that over. “I bet he looks shittier than you right now.”

“Yeah,” he laughs. “He looks real shitty.”

…

Rick’s feeding the fish. Carl squats down next to him. The man’s silent for a beat before turning to the boy.

“You should have told me,” he says, brows furrowing. “About the men, the sexual violence. Before I put my hands all over you.”

Carl frowns.

“But it’s different.”

“No, Carl, it’s really not.”

The boy takes a hold of Rick’s hand. The man looks at him, eyes flitting to the bruise on his face.

“I consented to you. I wanted you,” Carl says. “I didn’t want Spencer or Pete.”

Rick averts his eyes.

“Are you sure, Carl? We could end things. I won’t be mad.”

Carl leans in to kiss him, giving the man time to pull away if he wanted. Rick doesn’t pull away. They melt into each other.

“I want you,” Carl says. “Do you want me?”

Rick’s blue eyes meet his. “I do.”

“Good.”

They kiss again, harder. Rick grabs him by the shoulders.

“Carl. They ever touch you again, I’ll rip their throats out.” Savagery flashes behind his dark eyes.

The boy’s heart almost stops. His mouth waters with lust.

“Okay.”

…

The next morning, Aaron pulls him aside as Rick packs some extra supplies into a car.

“Are you sure you want to go today?” he asks for the millionth time. “You and Rick can always postpone a day or two?”

Carl hugs him. “I’ll be fine, Aaron. I’m sure.”

The man nods and hugs him back.

“If you say so, Carl,” he says. “Please be careful.”

“I will,” Carl says, walking them to the car. He hesitates as he climbs into the passenger seat. “I love you, Aaron.”

Aaron softens, eyes tender and filled with love. “I love you, too, Carl.”

…

The car ride is quiet for the first hour, both of them lost in thought. Eric had directed them to a town a distance away, where they might have some luck at finding medical supplies. Rick drives fast, letting the wind whip through their hair. Carl rolls the window down and leans his head out, resting it on his arm. Rick glances over at him. The forest smells damp and earthy, and Carl turns his face towards the clouding sky.

“Do you think it’s going to rain?” Carl asks, closing his eyes to feel the breeze.

“It might,” Rick answers, laying a warm hand onto Carl’s thigh. The boy pulls his head back into the car.

He turns his whole body around, kicks off his shoes, and rests his feet into Rick’s lap. The man sends him an amused look as he runs a hand over Carl’s white little feet.

…

They find the town in the late afternoon, and they scavenge what they can. There’re only a couple walkers here and there, looking weak and boney. They’re easy to take out. Carl finds some bandages and gauze. There’s a box of condoms hidden behind some old newspapers, and he grabs the box to inspect it. Rick rounds the corner just then with a couple cans of food. He raises his eyebrows at the box that Carl shoves into his backpack. Carl glances up, then at the condoms.

“These aren’t for us,” he states.

“Oh,” Rick says, leaning against a shelf.

Carl leans close to him, grabbing his crotch firmly. Rick twitches in his hand, hardening.

“When we have sex, I want you to come in me,” he says, pressing a kiss to Rick’s neck. The man hides a smile.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

…

That night, they camp in a nearby house. Rain in falling in cold sheets by the time they board up the windows. Rick counts the supplies they brought in, listing them down on a paper. Carl rechecks the windows. They eat some dried meat, a can of corn, and a tin of sausages for dinner. When it’s dark enough, they light a small fire in the fireplace and sit as close as possible to it, chatting. Carl makes their beds next to the fire, and it doesn’t take long for them to start yawning.

“Move over,” Carl says, scooting in closer to the heat. The man rolls over to face him. He looks stunning silhouetted by the soft light. “Don’t roll into the fire.”

Rick’s smile lines crease.

“I know,” he says, watching Carl kick off his boots to climb into the makeshift bed next to him.

Carl lays down, but the next minute, he’s squirming his way into Rick’s blankets to access the man’s warm body.

“Hey, let’s share blankets. You’re warm,” Carl says, pulling both their blankets on top of each other so two beds merge into one. Rick lets him lay his head on his arm. Carl presses close to the man, inhaling his scent. Rick rests his chin on the crown of his head. The rain outside begins to pour. Carl looks up at the man.

“Hey.”

“Hey yourself.” Rick smiles.

“This feels familiar.”

Rick hums. “How so?”

Carl shrugs.

“Kinda like in another life thing.”

The man studies him, quiet. Carl purses his lips.

“Never mind,” he says.

Rick kisses him.

“I wouldn’t mind this in another life.”

…

In the morning, they eat some more dried meat and fruits before packing everything and getting back on the road. It’s still raining, but the air is warm. Carl likes the feeling of the rain.

“Man, it’s raining a shit ton!” he says, running to the car with the last of their things. Rick laughs, settling into the driver’s side. They head off, back towards Alexandria.

“We’re lucky this place had so few walkers,” Rick says, driving carefully. He looks over at Carl. “You’re a luck charm.”

Carl grins. “You know I am.”

The rain lightens up later in the morning, but they still got a ways to drive. The road is quiet and wide, and the forest goes on in all directions. He sneaks a look at Rick. And then turns back to the scenery. After a few minutes, he peeks back at the man. Rick smiles.

“What?” he asks, giving Carl a once over.

Carl leans over to slide his hand down Rick’s pants. The man jumps, the car swerving just a little.

“Carl!” he laughs.

The boy smirks, stroking down his length gently.

“Keep driving,” he sings.

Rick grunts when Carl moves his hands faster. The boy follows a rhythm, drawing out small grunts of pleasure from the man. Rick gives a final groan, and he climaxes into Carl’s hand. The boy pulls back, bringing his fingers to his lips and lapping off Rick’s cum.

“Fuck,” Rick says, eyes on him. “Boy, you keep doing that, you’re in for a ride.”

Carl’s whole body shudders at his words. Rick notices.

…

They come across a lovely clearing in the forest where the treetops seem to concave inwards like a circle.

“Stop for a second,” Carl says, hopping out of the car before Rick’s even fully parked.

The rain keeps falling, smelling heavenly on the mossy ground. Carl raises his arms out, turning his head up to the sky. He closes his eyes, letting the rain soak him completely. Rick watches him in the car, hand on his chin. Carl lies down on the car hood, letting the rivulets run down his skin. He sighs happily, propping himself up by the elbows. Rick’s enthralled by him.

“Come out,” Carl beckons. “It feels so good.”

Rick shuts the car door firmly, coming around the car. Carl sits up when the man stops between his legs. They lean in. Carl shakes off his jacket. Rick kisses him, grabbing his hips hard. Carl gasps, pulling his arms around Rick’s neck. The man moves their hips together, grinding. He gently undoes Carl’s belt and pants, sliding Carl out of them along with his boxers. Carl kicks off his shoes for Rick to completely undress him. The rain makes their clothes stick to their skin.

“Rick,” Carl pants, reaching for the man’s belt. He tugs it open, and Rick reaches down the pull himself free. He brings himself to hardness and pushes two fingers into Carl to help him loosen up. All it takes are three fingers, and Carl’s moaning and begging for him.

“Are you sure?” Rick asks, holding himself from thrusting right into the boy’s milky body. Carl nods.

“I want you,” he moans. The man lines up to his entrance, kissing him, and pushes in. He breaches the tight ring of muscle, and Carl whines in pain. Rick presses kisses down his neck, trying to sooth him.

Rick thrusts shallowly, forcing himself to resist the urge to eat the boy alive. It feels so good to have a willing, soft body under him. Tears well up in Carl’s eyes when Rick thrusts again, this time deeper. Carl bleeds, and Rick releases a sharp breath. The boy lets out a wet sob.

“Shh, baby, it’s okay,” Rick murmurs, nuzzling Carl’s neck. He keeps thrusting gently, letting the boy get used to the sensation before thrusting further. He isn’t deterred by the boy’s shallow gasps and pained moans. He groans as he bottoms out. The rain eases and returns full force around them.

“Fuck, Rick,” Carl whispers. The pain eases away the more Rick fucks him. “Give it to me.”

The man growls and thrusts up into him, harder. The boy almost screams in pleasure. He wraps his legs tighter around Rick’s waist, willing him to go in deeper. When the pain finally gives way to full blown pleasure, Carl’s whole body feels aflame. He moves with Rick; the man’s rough movements drive him insane. Rick’s skilled hands caressing him, moving through his hair, nearly push him to the edge. He bares his throat for marking, and Rick snarls, leaning in to bite and nip and suck at Carl’s presented skin.

“ _ Oh god _ ,” Carl breaths, gripping Rick’s arm as the man plows into him. Tears run down his temple as he arches his body up into Rick’s. The man’s thrusts grow more sporadic and rough, and Carl can tell he’s almost there. Every thrust pulses through Carl, the pain coming back momentarily before fleeing. He whines, but Rick is gone, too wrapped up with pleasure.

Carl comes as the tip of Rick’s cock presses against his prostate. The man groans at the sight of him and releases into Carl. The boy moans at the heat that floods him, feeling all consumed in every way possible.

…

Rick eats him out afterwards and kisses him in apology for losing control. Carl’s shaking, still crying, from the exertion and rain clinging to them. The man dresses him and carries him back into the car, and they’re on their way again. His body is sore all over, but he’s surprised at how relaxed he feels. All of his pent-up hormones and stress and teenage angst are now dispensed, and Carl falls limp in the seat. Rick pets his thigh, glancing at him from the corner of his eyes.

“Are you alright?” Rick asks again. Carl nods.

“Yeah, I’m just sore,” he laughs, adjusting his position on the seat. Rick smiles.

They’re still drippy with rain and ruining the car, but Carl feels content.

“I feel like I don’t need to ask, but I should ask,” Carl begins. Rick looks over, a question on his lips. “Are you clean? I mean STDs and stuff.”

Rick nods, hesitating for a moment before speaking.

“My late wife was the only one I had been with since high school,” he says. “She was clean, too.”

“Ok,” Carl says, closing his eyes.

They drive on.

Eventually Rick asks, “Are you?”

“Huh?”

“Are you clean?”

Carl chews on his lip, wondering if he should fess up. He takes a look back at Rick, taking in the man’s gorgeous face.

“I was a virgin,” he says. Rick sucks in a soft breath. He pulls over suddenly and turns to face Carl.

“Did I hurt you?” he asks, looking very serious. “If I had known, I would have been more careful.”

Carl shakes his head. “You didn't. You were great.”

“You deserved the decency of a bed, at least. No one should lose their virginity on the hood of a car in the middle of a rainstorm,” Rick says, regretfully.

“It was everything I thought it’d be, and more,” Carl says, laying a warm hand onto Rick’s knee.

Rick studies him intently. Carl reaches up to brush a damp curl out of his eyes. The man pulls him in for a kiss. Carl opens his mouth for him.

“Tell me if I ever get crazy. Promise me, Carl,” he says, cupping the boy’s little face.

“I promise.”

…

Aaron and Daryl greet them at the gates, and Carl flings himself into their arms, surprising Daryl. Carl and Rick laugh when asked about their wet clothes. It’s almost sunset, and Carl’s hustled away to get changed the moment Aaron gets his hands on him. The others take their findings into catalog.

“You guys make a good team.” Carl hears Deanna remark as Aaron ushers him to their house. Eric yells a greeting from the kitchen, where some wonderful aroma is wafting out.

“How was it? Was Rick okay?” Aaron asks as Carl’s stripping out of his dirty clothes.

“It was kinda fun. Rick’s really cool,” Carl says, stepping into the bathroom. “Lemme shower and I’ll be right down. I’m starving!”

After he’s shampooed and scrubbed raw, he gets dressed in some clean jeans and a green shirt that Aaron laid out for him. The bruises that Rick left on his neck are way too obvious, but Carl has no way to cover them. Eric’s made some hearty chili and lemon pie. Rick’s gang are all invited, and some of them are filtering in. Carl takes a very happy looking Judith from Carol, and he plays with her until everyone arrives. Rick cleans up ridiculously well, and the man can’t help smiling at Carl. They share hidden smiles across the room.

“Here, kid, I got her,” Daryl says, taking Judith with one arm. The man pats his head, brushing his knuckles gently across the yellowing bruise on Carl’s face. He eyes the hickeys all over Carl’s neck. Carl shifts, trying to hide them.  

“How was the run?”

Carl smiles, reaching out to lay a hand on Daryl’s arm. The man’s lips curl into a hesitant smile.

“It was good. I hope we got enough supplies for a while,” he says.

“You guys did good,” Daryl says before Eric’s starting to serve up supper. They sit all sit, and Carl finds himself sandwiched by Rick and Daryl. Rick keeps a hand on Carl’s thigh as they eat. The chili’s filling and spicy, and people throw compliments to Eric and Aaron. The pie is extremely good, and Eric credits Maggie for the year’s best lemon harvest. By the time dinner’s finished, Carl can’t resist pulling Rick onto the back porch, away from peering eyes. Everyone else is chatting and cleaning up.

Carl presses against him, sliding his arms around Rick and curling a leg around his. The man runs his hands over Carl’s skin, ravishing his mouth. Carl holds back a moan, biting Rick’s lower lip. The man kisses his neck tenderly, and Carl lets out a quiet string of curses. Then, the porch door is slid open, and someone calls for them. Carl gets off of Rick, pushing away just enough to not draw suspicion if anyone saw them. Michonne eyes them oddly, but she smiles.

“We’re heading back,” she says to Rick. “You coming?”

Rick puts his hands in his pocket, glancing at Carl.

“Yeah, I better go,” he says. Carl smiles at them.

“Ok, lemme see you guys off,” Carl says, following them to the door. Aaron watches them head out to the porch. Michonne gives Carl a parting hug before going off with the others. The porch column shields them from most prying eyes, but they don’t want to risk being seen. Rick shuffles a little, wanting to put his hands back on the boy, but Carl acts first, leaning up and pressing a little kiss to his cheek.

“I’ll see you in the morning, lover,” he whispers. Rick hides a little smirk.

“And I you, lover,” he says, giving in to the urge to touch Carl. He cups Carl’s cheek gently, smiling when Carl leans into his touch.

…

Two month goes by. Summer fades into late autumn, and the weather gets a gradual chill. In the mornings when Carl wakes, he always sees Rick for a quick breakfast. They have a little ritual now. Rick always kisses him in the mornings, when they first see each other, and at night, when they part for bed. People know, Carl’s sure of it, but no one has the guts to challenge Rick about it. No one talks about it. It’s not entirely unheard of, an older man and a younger companion- the new world is different. Boys become men as soon as they can hold a gun. Carl and Rick are on the verge of being an established pair, but neither of them has thought to publicly announce it.

Their days have been happy, as happy as the apocalypse allows, but there are threats to their relationship in the back of Carl’s mind. Spencer can hardly bear to look at Carl since his punishment for laying hands on the boy, but Pete is another story altogether. The man looks at them with disgust evident in his eyes. He eyeballs Carl everywhere he sees the boy. Rick’s noticed his hostility, but Pete is smart, too. He hasn’t done anything outright to provoke Rick. Just Carl, only Carl. He’s turned Ron onto Carl, convinced his son that Carl’s rejection of him is due to his vulgar lust for older men’s’ attention. Ron now seethes in his presence, and Carl dreams of socking him in the mouth for spewing filth about his reputation.

And then one day, Pete says something that makes utterly no sense.

“Your daddy must not care about you, Carl. Letting you run loose,” he slurs, drunk from a day of chugging hard liquor. Carl halts in the middle of cleaning someone’s blood off the infirmary floor. “You think he’s fucked little boys in the past?”

“What?” he asks, glaring at the man who’s collapsed at his desk, a lousy excuse of a doctor.

Pete only laughs himself red.

“What did you just say?” Carl asks again, raising his voice and getting up. No one has the right to talk about his dad. No one’s mentioned him to Carl in years.

The man stumbles over to lean against the counter next to Carl.

“Do you ever think about your dad, boy?” he hisses, breath foul. He jabs a finger into Carl’s chest. “Won’t he be disgusted by you fucking around with older men.”

Carl grabs him by the collars, pulling tight enough to choke him.

“Listen to me, you fucker. Don’t you ever bring up my dad again,” he hisses, clenching his fists tighter. “Do you understand me?”

Pete doesn’t react, and Carl’s about to release his grip, when the man suddenly grabs him by the back of the neck and kisses him. Carl bites him, so hard that there’s a burst of iron in his mouth. Pete yells in pain and then chuckles.

“You’re a filthy boy,” he says. “I like filthy boys.”

Carl runs out of the room, slamming the door behind him to shut out the man’s manic laughter. He keeps running until his lungs are on fire, and then he stops at a corner of the city. He leans against the wall and cries, scrubbing the taste of blood from his mouth.

…

Daryl and the others come back from a run with a crate of weapons. No one thinks anything too much of them until Carl notices the engraving of a baseball bat on the handles of a few guns. He traces it with his finger, frowning.

…

Carl moans as Rick settles into him. The man pushes his legs wider apart and just looks at him for a moment, appreciating. Carl muffles a giggle into his palm, hoping they’re staying quiet enough as to not wake Aaron and Eric. The walls are thick, but Carl’s a loud partner and Rick’s never been one to repress his lover’s noises. Rick smiles back at him, watching the ease at which he slides in and out of the boy. Carl suppresses another laugh-moan when Rick reaches down to insert his fingers into Carl right along with his dick.

“Rick, stop it,” he says, batting at the man’s arm.

Rick growls playfully and goes at it, drawing out moan after moan from Carl. Sometimes Rick takes things too far and pushes Carl past his limit, and Rick feels guilty afterwards, pressing apologetic kisses into the boy’s sweat soaked hair. Other times, Rick is a gentle lover, running his hands up and down Carl’s sides, easing his way in slowly. They always have sex in Carl’s house; Rick’s is always full of his people. Carl doesn’t mind him staying over sometimes, and Aaron and Eric are very lenient people. They probably know what they get up to in the privacy of Carl’s bedroom, but Eric’s always been an advocate of sexual experimenting. And they like Rick.

When they’re done they just fall asleep together, saving their shower for the morning. They have a routine for Judith, too. They take care of her in the mornings, they make her meals, they change her for bed. But she prefers to sleep in the same room as Michonne, having grown accustomed to her presence.

One day, Judy calls Carl “bubby”, and everyone looks up in surprise.

…

A scouting squad begins complaining of seeing people in the woods, usually in the dead of the night. Deanna doesn’t take the claims as seriously as Rick would like. Carl can see the man growing more and more agitated with her as the complaints become more frequent. The threat weans after a couple of days, but Rick tells his group to keep an eye out. He encourages Carl to do his crossbow training with Daryl in the gates from now on.  

…

“Isn’t he growing up to be one of the prettiest here?”

Rick turns to look at Pete, eyes hard. The man’s ogling Carl where the boy is working in the garden with Maggie. Carl’s thin shirt rises up, revealing a sliver of pale skin temptingly. His cheeks are pink from the sun and hard labor. Pete follows all of the boy’s movements with a debauchery written all over his face. Rick grits his teeth, willing himself not to pounce on the man.

“I don’t think he appreciates what you say about him,” Rick says calmly. He keeps his tone cold. Pete snorts.

“I have eyes. I’m just saying what I’ve been observing,” he says, mockingly.

Rick clenches his hands and turns away from Pete to keep his cool. He looks at Carl to stay calm.

“Don’t think I don’t know what you’re up to,” he hisses, keeping his voice low to not alert the others around them.

Pete narrows his eyes at him.

“And what am I doing exactly, Officer Friendly?”

Rick blinks in surprise.

“Excuse me?” he asks. He’d never mentioned his previous occupation to anyone in Alexandria, and he’s sure no one in his pack would tell about his past.

The man smirks, a nasty thing.

“You heard me.  _ Officer _ ,” he says. “That’s what you used to be right?”

Rick leans in.

“The next time you lay your hands on Carl will be the last time you have hands,” he says, staring the man down. He sees the moment Pete registers his words because he swallows thickly. Rick gets up to go to his boy.

“You know, Carl lost his father at an early age. The moment I met him, I knew he had daddy issues. I didn’t realize how deep they really ran,” Pete muses.

Rick frowns but doesn’t slow down, doesn’t allow the man that satisfaction, and goes to Carl. He braces himself for the fight with Pete he knows will come.

…

Carl and Daryl go swimming one last time before the weather turns. This time, they completely forgo the excuse to hunt and bring a little basket of food with them. Daryl has his crossbow, and Carl carries his silenced pistol. They strip down unabashedly; no one had really taught Carl to be afraid of his own body. Carl’s only surprised that Daryl’s so comfortable around him to be in such a vulnerable position.

The water is warmer than Carl remembers, and he glides through it gently. Daryl dunks his head under and scrubs his face clean. Carl laughs at the feeling of fish brushing by his feet. They swim for a while, both enjoying the feeling of vastness as they float around. At some point, they start talking. Daryl shares a few stories from his childhood that Carl doesn’t expect.

“I don’t remember much from my childhood,” Carl says, shrugging a shoulder. “All I vaguely remember are the walks I used to take with my dad and my mom’s singing voice.”

“I’m sorry about your parents,” Daryl says, voice low in respect.

Carl smiles. “I’m sorry about yours.”

After a while, Carl reaches over and tugs at the strand of hair that Daryl always keeps in his face.

“I could give you a trim?” he suggests. “I gave Rick one when y’all arrived.”

Daryl shrugs. “If you want.”

The boy nods. “When we get back!”

The man offers him a curl of his lip, a hesitant smile.

…

Daryl leaves on a run with Aaron the next day. Carl never does give him that haircut. Two afternoons later, Carl is jolted out of the library by a loud crash and yelling. Of all the things he expects to find, it’s not Pete and Rick fighting on the ground, bloody and primal. There’s a small crowd forming around them, but no one dares to get close enough to stop them. Carl races over just as Pete’s sitting on top of Rick, strangling him. He sees Glenn, Enid, Ron, and Michonne running over as well. Jessie’s on the side, crying and yelling.

“Stop!” Carl yells. “ _Stop it_!”

He gets a grip on Pete’s jacket, and he pulls as hard as he can. Rick tries to say something, but Pete punches Carl to get him off. He growls and flips Pete to the ground. Carl cups his jaw as Tara comes over to him. Deanna and Reg get here, and she demands them to stop. Rick pulls off of Pete inches away from taking his life, and he looks furiously at her. Pete tries to talk, but Rick snarls at him.

“You shut the hell up,” he snaps. “You say one word, and I’ll put a fucking bullet through you.”

Rick yells at Deanna, telling the whole town their mistakes, pointing the gun everywhere until Michonne knocks him out. Carl can’t help but think that whatever happened, Pete initiated it. Both men get dragged off to separate holding rooms to be examined by Denise. Pete sneers at Carl and spits a glob of spit and blood in his direction.

“You and Rick are over with, boy. Everyone’s gonna hear it tonight,” he manages to say before he’s pushed away by Michonne. Carl swallows thickly, confused and  _ so _ scared.

…

Carl goes with Carol, Glenn, and Abraham to check up on Rick before the night’s meeting. Michonne’s already questioning him, a fierce look in her eyes. Carl can tell she’s not mad at Rick, not really, and she’s willing to fight on Rick’s side no matter what. Rick extends an arm out to Carl, and the boy goes to him. Carl hugs Rick tight, burying his face into Rick’s neck. Everyone eyes their interaction intensely.

“Pete said something to Carl right after you were carried off. A threat to the two of you,” Michonne says.

Rick doesn’t even look surprised.

“Pete was hitting Jessie. I heard it down the street. And then the fucker said something he shouldn’t have about Carl, so I swung at him,” Rick says. “Whatever dirt he has on him, on us, we can take it.”

Carl pulls back to look at him. He brushes the bandages on Rick’s face.

“I’ll be there. It’ll be okay.”

…

Things go okay at first. Rick is reasonable, explaining and actually persuading the people of the outside threat. They begin to agree with him until Pete. Until he comes storming in, and then nothing is okay. The first words that Pete spews, fingers clutching the hilt of the katana, ruin Carl. They crumble his world and brings him to his knees. The whole town freezes in shock, all staring at the picture Pete flings before them. It’s from Rick’s wallet. An old photograph but clear enough to see Rick and his family. And Carl. His son.

“ _This_ is the truth of the despicable monster here in this town!” Pete yells. He points to Rick accusingly. The man is silent, eyes glazed over, staring at Carl. “You let him into our town? Let him be a spokesperson? He fucked his own son!”

Carl sways on his ground, suddenly lightheaded, but Abraham steadies him. No one can move, all too stunned to speak, even Deanna. Reg acts first, going to Pete to try and calm him. Pete resists.

“Pete, please, get out of here. You can’t be here,” Reg says, pleading with the man.

“No!” Pete yells, pushing Reg. “Get away!”

Before he knows what he’s doing, the katana slips in his hands, and he slices Reg’s throat open. Then people move, scream. Deanna holds Reg as he dies in her arms. Abraham pins Pete to the ground. Rick pulls out his gun. Carl passes out.

…

When Carl wakes again, Aaron and Daryl are with him, sitting by his bed. He blinks lazily, wondering what the fuck he’s doing in bed when the sun outside the window indicates noon. Aaron smiles sadly down at him.

“Hi, sweetie,” he murmurs, running a hand through Carl’s hair. Daryl can’t look at him, and then it rushes back to Carl. All the events, Pete’s words, the town’s shock.

“ _Dad_ ,” he says aloud, jerking up. He frantically pushes himself out of bed, but his whole body shudders, unsteady. Daryl’s strong arms are there, holding him up, cradling him.

“I’ve got you,” he gruffs, putting him right back on the bed.

Carl lets out a choked sob as his face heats up and tears well in the corners of his eyes. Aaron hugs him, patting his head and whispering reassurances.

“Can I see him?” he manages to ask.

Aaron sighs. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Deanna wants you guys to be separated for a while,” Daryl says. “Just until she figures out what to do.”

Carl falls silent. Both men exchange a look. Eric makes an entrance then, holding a tray of food and water. He’s quiet, but he pulls Carl into an embrace, and Carl is so grateful for him.

“Deanna wants to talk to you, Carl, see the… extent of your situation before she sets anything in stone,” Aaron says, holding back a grimace.

“The extent of my situation,” Carl repeats. “Does she mean our relationship?”

No one knows what to say. Carl feels a flush of shame.

“We’ve… been intimate since the first supply run,” he confesses. Eric grips his hand. “I didn’t know Rick _Grimes_ was alive. I met other Ricks before. I swear to god, if I had known-.”

Daryl rests a hand on his shoulder.

“It’s okay. No one could have guessed. Rick didn’t know you were alive as well,” he says. “It’s okay.”

Carl nods, tears sliding down his cheeks in streams.

“I’m sorry,” he says to no one in particular.

“It’s okay, baby,” Eric says.

…

Deanna’s compromise is that they’re not to have prolonged alone time, ever. They aren’t even allowed to have any physical contact. Carl’s heartbroken to say the least. Rick is not only his lover now, he’s Carl’s real and alive father. They’re blood. But Deanna’s rules are nonnegotiable. She’s more ruthless than ever, now that Reg is dead. She had stated that if they couldn’t abide her few rules, they would be moved to opposite ends of the town.

Carl hasn’t seen Rick in over a week, but his thoughts are constantly on the man. Eric and Denise keep him busy, though. Now that Pete is gone, Denise has been pushing him extra hard to learn more about medicine and amputation in case Carl had to take over when she wasn’t around. Eric teaches him more about cooking. Daryl takes him further and longer into the woods for crossbow training. Michonne spars with him harder, to make him tired and not as restless as he feels. He feels slightly better that no one’s treating him differently, but it still shames him to think he’s disappointed them.

And at night, when he’s alone, he can’t help bringing himself over the edge with the thoughts of Rick. More nights than naught, he finds himself biting his lip hard enough to bleed as he imagines Rick’s hands all over his body, his dick in him. Sometimes, he cries as he climaxes into his hand, body hot with lust and face red with shame.

Another week, and Carl only catches a few glimpses of Rick, each time with the newly single Jessie. Jealousy flares in him, and it’s another night of repressed lust before he’s sitting at some isolated corner in Alexandria, tired of crying. He hears the walkers groaning outside, their teeth clicking together, and he’s oddly at peace. He lays down on the grass and closes his eyes.

…

Carl meets a friend of Enid’s, a man by the name of Alden. He’s not really in the mood for making new friends, but Alden is nice, almost too nice, and a good flirt. Enid seems to really want them to talk, because she forces them to make a “date” to chat and get to know each other. Before she can run off, Carl pulls her aside.

“Enid, I know what you’re doing.”

She sighs, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.

“I want you to have new love interests, okay?” she says. “This whole thing's been tearing you up.”

It's Carl's turn to shake his head.

“I'm fine,” he says. “I just need some time to get over him.”

She turns to him with a worried expression. “Carl, please give this a try. Give Alden a chance, he's a nice guy.”

He looks at her, really looks at her and sees the genuine worry, and makes his resolve.

“Let me think about it. I'll get back to you.” He knows he’s going to say yes to her anyways.

…

Deanna hosts another party, this time for the autumn harvest. Everyone dresses up and brings their finger foods, and it’s a rush of deja vu. Carl doesn’t even feel like going, but Eric and Aaron are so gentle and kind, and they put Carl in a beautiful new shirt. At the party, Carl sees Rick chatting with Jessie again. The man catches sight of him; a look of sadness and wistfulness pass through his features, but Carl can see him steel himself and look away. When Carl turns around, he notices Deanna’s hard look. His chest clenches and he feels the brink of tears well in his eyes. He doesn’t want to break down right here, so he rushes out of the room, going down the stairs of the porch as fast as he can until he’s far enough that their talking fades away.

He makes his way to the main gates, where no one is guarding for once. He climbs up to the top where he overlooks the forest and road. It’s cold and quiet, and Carl sits there for who knows how long until he hears a little knock behind him.

“ _Daryl_ ,” he says, a little breathy from crying.

The man comes to him, all protective and gentle. For a moment Carl is breathless with the idea. It's a wild, racking, and completely thoughtless thing, but Carl moves before he has a chance to process what he's thinking. His lips are on Daryl's, anything but soft, and the man is frozen in place. And then suddenly Daryl is moving with him. The man’s lips are skillful, but he kisses Carl like he's kissing his first love. Carl's wild kisses mellow down into something more sympathetic, and his hands come up to cup Daryl's neck.

Daryl pulls back first, eyes studying Carl like he’s something precious.

“Kid…” he trails off.

Carl looks away.

“I'm sorry.”

The man is silent for a beat.

“It’s okay.”

…

He and Ron get into a fight. Ron finds him in the armory doing a routine checkup and comes over, looking pale and shaky. Carl feels alert immediately, and he trusts his instincts to know a dangerous situation.

“Ron? What are you doing here?” he asks, eyes catching Ron holding something behind his back.

“We’re all going to die, Carl,” he says, low and unsteady. Carl swallows thickly, frowning.

“What are you talking about?”

Ron comes closer, but Carl stands his ground, refusing to back away. The boy reaches over and grips Carl’s jacket lapel. Carl braces himself for the blow he knows will come.

“Your dad killed mine. You’re both monsters,” Ron suddenly hisses. Carl grits his teeth and pulls Ron’s hand off.

“Your dad was an asshole,” he says. “Get that fact into your head, Ron.”

Ron suddenly swings at him, and Carl raises his hands up to catch the shovel that Ron is using. He grunts as Ron presses the shovel handle to his throat, trying to cut of his air supply against the wall. Carl wrestles him back and shoves him against a shelf of ammunition. There’s a loud crash followed by the sound of guns crashing to the ground. Ron jumps back up and reaches for a gun. The door bursts open, and Rosita and Glenn are rushing in. Ron drops the weapon before either of them see.

“Are you guys okay? What happened?” Glenn asks, scanning them over.

“We’re ok. We just accidentally knocked into the shelf,” Carl says, not bothering to look at Ron. “Sorry about that.”

Rosita studies them, knowing, but she doesn’t fight him. Instead, she escorts Ron out of the shed and leaves Glenn to help Carl clean up.

…

Deanna finds him sitting by the lake, eyes glazed over as he gazes into the sunset. She sits down next to him.

“How you holding up, Carl?” she asked, a maternal tone in her voice.

He shrugs. “I've been better.”

She lays a hand on his, turning so that he has to look at her too.

“Tell me how you really feel,” she says.

The tears come easily, and Carl is almost embarrassed for her to see him cry.

“How do I get over him? Do I even have to get over him? He's my _dad_ ,” he says. Deanna pats him on the back. “I think about him every day. Everything I do, I think about him. He’s on my mind constantly. How the hell are you supposed to get over your first love?”

Then he thinks about Reg, and he opens his mouth to apologize, but Deanna beats him to it.

“It's okay I understand,” she offers, looking quite sad herself. “Honest to God, I don't even know. I suppose you just look for someone new. Find another obsession and stop thinking about Rick.”

 Carl lets out a low laugh.

“I don't think I can do that.”

“Yes, you can. Carl, I'm not going to sugarcoat it,” Deanna says. Carl feels the need to brace himself for her next words. “Have sex with someone else. Feel someone else's hands on you and moving on from him won't be as hard.”

“I can't do that. I won't!” For some reason it feels like he's cheating on Rick, just with that thought planted in his head.

Deanna sighs. “Take my word on it, Carl. I’m not trying to hurt you. It's just how human nature works.”

After she's gone, he thinks about her words, and the next day Carl decides to take on Enid’s offer.

…

Alden is truly very sweet. He must be in his early twenties, but he’s smart and knows how to survive. Carl likes him immediately. Their relationship progresses faster than Carl thought they would. Alden is a flirt, and Carl knew that from the beginning, yet he still can't help but feel somewhat attracted to his charm. Aaron and Eric are quite happy with his new friendship, as are the others, but Carl always has Rick on the back of his mind. The man's been cozying up to Jessie, and the whole town is gossiping about their budding romance. Every time Carl catches sight of them together, or hears talk of them, he is engulfed with jealousy. He’s seen Rick holding her hand, and the thought of them kissing drives him insane with anger.

It's only after Carl and Alden's third date that they kiss for the first time. It's nice and sweet, what a new young couple are supposed to experience, and Carl would be lying if he said he didn't enjoy it. The innocence of their first kiss dissolves as they continue to explore each other's mouths. Carl lets Alden lean him against the wall and brace himself against Carl. Alden moves his hands from Carl's back down to his hips, and that's when Carl decides to call it a night. The man leans in and presses a final little kiss to Carl's cheek before he heads back home. That night is no different from any other night, and Carl still dreams of Rick.

Carl had no idea that Rick knew about his dates with Alden; he thought the man had no time to think about him. He didn't realize how wrong he was until Rick catches them kissing on the back porch of Alden’s house. It's been two weeks since Carl and Alden’s first date, and their relationship had really moved quickly. When Rick catches them, Carl is straddling Alden lap, their mouths latched together and hands groping. Carl lets out a soft moan at Alden’s little nips from his collarbone to his jaw just as Rick rounds the corner. Carl gasps, breaking out of his pleasure haze and pushes himself away from Alden. Rick’s expression is a strained look of neutrality that is completely schooled. Carl looks down, cheeks heating up. Alden pulls Carl back to him by the waist, but he does smile politely at Rick.

“Sorry about that, sir,” he says. Rick doesn’t meet either of their eyes as he moves on, walking quickly towards the weaponry house behind Alden’s.

Carl forces himself to not look at him walk away. Alden pecks him on the cheek.

“Are you alright?” he asks Carl.

“Yeah, sorry,” Carl says, smiling a little. He pulls the man down to kiss him on the mouth, willing himself to not think about Rick’s fiery eyes.

…

Daryl never acts differently towards him, even after the impulsive kiss. Carl appreciates his calming company, and they’re back in the woods again. This time, Daryl wants to teach him to catch and skin a rabbit.

“See that?” the man says, pointing to a track in the dirt. “Some mama rabbit and her babies.”

Carl studies the prints, and then he frowns at something that catches his eye on Daryl’s side.

“What the hell is that?” he asks, stepping closer to the bushes. He looks around for any strings or lines for a trap, but when he sees nothing, he reaches forward. Daryl yelps at the last minute and drags him back by the shoulder. A bear trap shakes and snaps shut with enough force to take out a limb.

“ _Holy shit_!” Carl gasps, sprawled on the dirt.

The trap has been painted green and brown for camouflage. Carl feels a rush of fear course through him.

“That ain’t for the walkers,” Daryl comments. Carl nods dumbly.

“Do you think that was intentionally for one of us to step in?” he asks. Daryl grits his teeth, helping Carl up and pulling him along back to the community.

“We’re not sticking around to find out,” Daryl says.

They rush back into the gates and head to Deanna’s to tell her about the trap. By the time they go back out to check the trap, it’s gone.

…

It’s Jessie’s birthday party one evening, and so many people will be attending that Carl decidedly won’t attend. He waves goodbye to Aaron and Eric from the porch and smiles until they’re gone. Then, he goes inside and makes dinner. There’s a knock on his front door, and Carl is not surprised to find Alden, flowers in his hand.

“Hi, Alden. Aren’t you going to the party?” he asks, letting the man in. Alden grins.

“Nope!” he says, following Carl to the kitchen. “I’d rather spend time with you.”

Carl sends him a smile. “Did you eat yet?”

Alden shakes his head.

“Then I’ll make more ravioli,” Carl says, getting out another can. He’s toasting garlic bread on another pan; Alden helps him make more.

They eat at the dining table, chatting about nothing in particular. Carl shakes the tension out of his shoulders and tries to enjoy himself. It’s not totally surprising that they end up curled up on the couch, kissing and petting. Carl is draped over Alden, and he starts moving his hips in lazy circles. The man groans, encouraging him on with hot open- mouthed kisses. Pleasure builds between Carl’s legs, and he has to suppress a moan. Alden notices.

“Is this okay?” he asks tenderly. “We can slow down.”

Carl shakes his head.

“I’m okay. It feels good,” he pants, grinding harder onto Alden’s bulge.

“Do you… want to go further?” Alden asks, all genuinity in his eyes.

He stops, chest heaving and body hot. The man caresses his thighs, where he’s holding onto Carl. Carl nods, smiling uncertainty. Alden smiles back and takes the upper hand. He gently switches their positions and props Carl up with a cushion. Carl gulps as the man slides off his jeans and boxers. Alden inhales a sharp breath.

“Oh, look at you, Carl,” Alden breaths. “Beautiful boy.”

Carl blushes, can picture what Alden sees- the expanse of pink and pale skin. It feels weird, someone else touching him there. He suddenly imagines Rick in Alden’s place, and the image of Rick groaning as he sinks into Carl burns in his mind. Carl yelps as Alden fingers him, and the man stops for a second, worried.

“Did I hurt you?” he asks.

“No, no. You’re fine. I was just surprised,” Carl says, hurriedly. Alden kisses him again before continuing his movements. Carl shudders at the feeling of fullness. He moans when Alden adds another finger. Alden is good with his hands it seems because Carl comes in record time, body arched and wrung tight. He lays against the cushion, panting hard.

Carl pulls Alden down for a kiss.

“Let me help you get off,” Carl says, reaching down, but Alden catches his hand.

“It’s okay, baby. You get your rest. I should go say something to Enid; she was expecting me at the armory,” he says, cleaning him off with a tissue. He kisses Carl’s sweaty forehead before heading out, letting Carl catch his breath.

When he’s out of his orgasm afterglow, he pulls on his pants and underwear. Carl takes their dishes and washes them out. He wants to shower before Aaron and Eric get home. By the time Carl’s getting into bed, he can’t hold back his regretful tears, and he’s lying on the bed wondering why he even got that far with Alden if he can’t get over Rick.

…

Olivia hands him the last crate of the day.

“Send that down to Michonne. It’s mostly stuff for Judy. Once you’re done, you’re good for the day,” she says, already pushing him out the door. Carl swallows thickly at the thought of going to Rick’s house, but he tells himself to man up and get it over with. He’s still in disbelief that he has a precious baby sister, but he’s not sure he’s even welcomed in the Grimes family anymore. He’s been in a daze all day, mulling over the idea of breaking things off with Alden and wallowing in his desire for his own father. It’s been cold recently, just on the brink of winter. The first snow fell prematurely this year.

When he reaches the house, Michonne is hurrying somewhere. She catches sight of him as she’s jumping off the porch.

“Carl! Thank you, but I need to run. Can you just set that in the kitchen?” She asks before she’s bounding down the street. Carl opens and closes his mouth, at loss for words.

He takes a deep breath and goes inside. The house is rather empty, and Carl wonders where everyone’s gone. He shivers in the damp air. He sets the crate on the kitchen counter and turns to leave. He’s totally unprepared when Rick descends the stairs, fresh from a shower and bare chested. He’s so gorgeous it physically hurts to see him. Carl halts in his steps, and all the breath in his lungs are knocked out. Rick’s blue grey eyes widen just a fraction before he regains his composure.

“Do you need something?” he asks, sounding quite cold. Carl swallows something bitter.

“I brought some things from Olivia. For Judith,” he answers. Rick nods. He gestures to the kettle on the stove.

“Would you like some tea? You look frozen,” Rick says casually. Carl wonders if sitting down with him will be breaking Deanna’s rules. He decides he needs to talk to Rick more than he cares about her rules.

He sits and sets his usual hunting knife on the counter, letting Rick pour them both mugs of peppermint tea. It’s hot and warming, and Carl drinks a whole cup before even speaking. Rick watches him, far too distant. Carl thinks it’s better if he were to get straight into business.

“What happened to Mom and Shane?”

Rick takes another slow sip before he answers.

“I shot Shane. He was getting unstable. Your mom died giving birth to Judith.” He looks away, a flash of sadness passing over features. “I’m sorry.”

Carl mulls over it for a second, quiet.

“Did Mom… did she ever mention me?”

The man looks at him. “Yeah, she always talked about you. She didn’t forget about you.”

“They never came for me at school,” Carl says. Rick frowns and looks down at his lap. “I had to go with a teacher to Atlanta, and they all just kept dying.”

Rich is silent, clinging onto every word.

“By the time we got to Atlanta, the whole place was fucked, and I’d already been with three groups. I met Aaron after a few years so things got better.”

He sighs, sitting back and rubbing his eyes.

“What the hell happened to you? I thought for certain you’d died,” he asks.

“I woke up, and all of you were gone. Someone helped me get back on my feet, and I went looking for you and Lori,” Rick says. He reaches forward to rest his hand on Carl’s. “We never found you, but we looked, Carl, I swear. It broke my heart to think you were dead.”

Carl slides his hand out from under Rick’s and crosses his arms.

“Are you moving on now? Forget everything we had and get with Jessie?” It’s a childish, stupid thing to say, but Carl’s still hurt.

Rick is speechless.

“Carl, you’re my son. What we were doing was wrong. It’s in-”. Carl cuts him off.

“Incest, huh?” he snarls, _way_ more aggressive than he intends. He stands abruptly, gathering his knife back into his belt. He sees his father grit his teeth. “Fine. Let’s not talk again. Good luck with Jessie.”

Rick jumps up as he turns to walk away and grabs him by the wrist. He’s tall before Carl like this and threatening. He can feel Rick’s heat permeating through his shirt. Carl glares at him as hard as he can, and Rick loses his cool.

“What about you and that kid? What the fuck is that about?” he hisses, moving to look Carl eye to eye. “Haven’t _you_ moved on too fast?”

Carl growls and shoves Rick off of him.

“You can’t be serious. A week after Deanna separates us and you’re going around holding her hand, being all over her in public,” he spits. “You know how I felt? Did you care?”

The man grips him by the biceps, gripping so hard Carl’s sure there’ll be bruises tomorrow.

“Did you let him fuck you?” he asks, a wild look in his eyes. Carl swallows a feeling of bitter triumph.

“That’s none of your fucking business, _Rick_. What we do, you have no right to-.”

Rick crushes their lips together, and Carl lets out the obscenest moan. They stumble against the island and Carl desperately latches onto Rick, hands pulling and scratching up the man’s bare torso. It feels so good to have the man against him again, and Carl is trembling with need. And Rick needs it, too, because he’s clawing at Carl’s clothes, trying to get to his skin.

“Upstairs, bedroom,” Rick says in between their heated kisses.

Carl bites his lower lip, pushing his tongue into Rick’s mouth. The man isn’t gentle either. He grips Carl by the ass, forcing the boy to wrap his legs around his waist as he lifts him up. Rick carries them upstairs to the bedroom and locks the door. The moment Carl’s put down, he pulls off his shirt and kicks off his boots. Rick throws him onto the bed and strips him waist down. Carl tugs Rick’s pants open, pulling them down. The man wastes no time in climbing over him and completely smothering him with hard, wet kisses. Carl moans and pulls Rick down over himself, ignoring the part of his brain that’s telling him not to do this.

Rick licks his fingers and reaches down between Carl’s legs. He shoves two fingers into Carl, prepping him roughly. The boy grunts in pain, but Rick isn’t deterred by his little gasps. Carl’s already hard with want. He pulls Rick’s fingers out of him and lines up the man’s dick to his hole.

“That’s enough. I want you now,” he says, breathless as ever with Rick looking at him like that.

“It’s gonna hurt,” Rick warns.

Carl forces Rick’s cockhead into him.

“ _Good_ ,” he groans, letting out another cry of pain when Rick swiftly slides into him.

Carl sobs, clutching onto the man like a lifeline. Rick sets brutal pace because they both need it so bad, and every thrust forces Carl’s whole body to shudder. Their skin against skin is not a slap but a thump by the way Rick is plunging into him.

“Rick, god.  _ Daddy _ , please,” he whimpers against the man’s neck. Rick presses a kiss against his brow, and it contrasts everything they’re doing.

“I got you, baby. I’ve got you,” he grunts.

Carl wails at Rick’s pace, and when Rick looks down, he can see that his boy’s ripped and a little bloody. Carl doesn’t complain, if anything, he urges Rick to go faster, harder. His thrusts border on desperation and viciousness. Carl’s orgasm is violent and intense, and he’s completely exhausted afterwards, on the verge of passing out. Rick goes at it still, using Carl like a doll. He bends down to kiss Carl, bracing his arms on either side of Carl’s head as he chants Carl’s name. When he finally comes, he’s buried so deep inside of Carl, the boy can almost feel his heartbeat.

As they come down from their adrenaline and hormone fueled craze, Carl becomes more aware of what they’d just done. Rick’s hot breath against his ear and heaving chest on his suddenly feels disgusting. Carl eases Rick off and gets up, feeling  _ it _ inside of him oozing out. He swallows the vomit that’s rising up in his throat and grabs his clothes. He stumbles out of bed, legs shaking hard. Everything is out of place and messy and he needs to shower all this off. Carl throws on his shirt. Rick frowns, getting up.

“Carl?” he asks softly, coming over. Carl ignores him and continues dressing. “Are you alright?”

He starts lacing up his boots, hands trembling. Rick tries to take his hands in his, but Carl won’t let him. He backs away, breaths coming out in shallow pants.

“We shouldn’t have done that,” he says, averting his eyes when Rick’s lips part in shock. Carl’s eyes catch on the blood smears on the bed sheets, and he reaches a hand down his pants and between his legs. His fingers come back pink and wet with come.

“Carl, talk to me, son,” Rick pleads, looking very frustrated.

Carl shakes his head and pushes him aside.

“Don’t call me that. I need to go.”

He books it out of there before Rick can say anything else, his unsteady feet taking him out of the house and down the street faster than he can think.

…

Carl breaks it off with Alden the next day because he can’t handle the guilt. The man assures him that it’s alright. He says he wishes Carl all the best, and the way he words things makes it sound like a goodbye. Carl finds out from Enid later that Alden’s leaving Alexandria, been planning to return to his people in another community for a while now. He and Carl part with a hug and a kiss as innocent as their first.

…

It feels like punishment for his actions when the whole town is overrun by walkers. It happens a week after he and Rick sleep together, and Carl feels like it’s all his fault. He witnesses Jessie and Sam die. He hears people screaming in agony. And then whatever higher fucking power has Ron shoot him in the stomach before the boy’s stabbed through by Michonne. Carl can hardly remember Rick screaming for him, carrying him to Denise, and pleading for his life. When he wakes, he’s welcome back into a newly broken world, and Rick is the only thing that sustains him.

Aaron and Eric, Daryl, Glenn, Michonne, all of them- they make a new order in Alexandria. Rick is elected their leader, and no one has anything to say against it. He’s the most effective leader Carl’s ever come across, and he makes the transition of power easy. Rick is strong and fair. The people trust him. Carl rests for months with all of them by his side to nurse his injury. Rick is there for him as a father and lover. The day Carl woke from his coma, he had kissed Rick so hard he split the man’s lip. Their attraction and love are inevitable, but they’re surprised when no one complains about seeing them together like that again.

The next time they make love, Carl’s bandage is already off, and they’re so in love it hurts Carl to be away from the man. Rick is gentle, so so gentle, like he’s afraid touching Carl too hard will hurt him. Carl cups Rick’s face, when the man breaks down into tears, and tells him, for the first time, “I love you”.

…

Aaron and Eric let Carl move into a house with Rick and Judith, and they pretend like it’s no big deal. Carl can tell it is because Eric’s trying not to cry and Aaron’s biting his lip. He hugs them, kisses them, and reminds them that they’ll be seeing each other every day. Daryl said to treat it like Carl’s finally moving out of his parent’s house.

…

Life progresses on normally. Judith says his name, finally, when the weather turns. It’s been almost a year since Rick’s group arrived at Alexandria’s gates. Everyone’s flourishing under Rick’s leadership. Michonne came by last night to borrow toothpaste and to check on Judy. Daryl basically sleeps over every other night, but Carl and Rick don’t mind at all. Sometimes, when Carl feels too by his lonesome, he likes to go find Eric or Aaron just to talk.

The other day, Abraham remarked that he’s grown an inch or two from the sparring practices, at which he’s gotten quite good at. He can almost take Michonne off her feet. Rick sometimes watches them go at it, smiling when Carl does get Sasha or Glenn down. But he’s got a long way to go if he wants to take down his own father or Daryl one on one.

…

Rick comes back late from a run, but he walks back with a tired smile, and Carl knows it went well.

“There’s a new group. The Hilltop,” Rick explains. “They have food, a lot of it, but they need ammunition.”

“Which we have,” Carl finishes, smiling.

Rick pulls him into his arms, squeezing tight. When he pulls back, his eyes are red around the rims and damp.

“We’re going to make it in the new world. I told you once, and I’m telling you now. I want to do it for you,” he said. Carl grips him. “You’re my son, Carl.”

They kiss, and it’s sweet and perfect, and Carl knows this is worth fighting for.

…

It’s early summer, and the Alexandrians face a threat far worse than any they’ve encountered. Negan comes to them, a force of violence and brutality, so quickly that none of them have any time to cope. One second Carl’s waking up to Rick’s kisses on his neck, and the next, they’re kneeling on the ground, Abraham and Glenn dead.

“My god, is this your boy?” Negan wolf whistles. Rick clenches his hands into fists. “He doesn’t look like you, that’s for fucking sure. _Pretty little thing_ , ain’t he?”

He raises Carl’s face with a hand cupping the boy’s jaw and _grins_. Negan taunts them, hurts Rick, and humiliates Carl. Maggie’s on the ground, sobbing, by the time the man leaves, and Daryl’s gone gone gone. Carl’s legs feel heavy, limbs weighing down with the realization that Glenn and Abraham are really dead. Rick looks terribly tired, covered in blood and dirt and sweat. They bury the bodies in complete silence; Maggie’s already passed out from her fever.

That night, Carl scrubs himself so raw in the shower that he breaks the skin on his arms. Afterwards, he lies on his side on his and Rick’s bed, completely numb. He hears a soft knock at the door, and he turns over to find his father, hair still damp from his shower. Rick shuffles over and climbs into bed. Carl moves to lie on his back, staring up at the dimly lit ceiling before Rick reaches over and extinguishes the lamp. They lie in silence for a while, maybe an hour, before Carl grapples in the dark for Rick’s hand, entire being craving the company of another, someone else in misery. Rick clutches his dainty little hand when he starts to tremble.

He scoots closer to Carl and then presses even closer. At some point in the night, Carl’s whole facade breaks, and he’s crying and clinging onto Rick, face hidden in the man’s chest. His father encircles him in his arms and keeps him there. They fall asleep holding each other and crying silent tears, and both of them know that nothing will ever be the same again.

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> How was it!?!  
> Should I write a continuation? Was it good?  
> I LOVE feedback!! <3 :^)


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